The TwentyFour Months After
by Angelamermaid
Summary: My sequel to "The Twenty-Four Months Before". What does parenthood hold for Cristina and Owen?
1. Month One January

**Month One - January**

"Owen?"

"What? What's wrong?"

"Chloe's sleeping."

He blinks and stares at the clock. 3:17 in the morning. He turns his head and stares at his wife, hovering over him in their dimly lit bedroom.

"Cristina ... you woke me up ... because our baby is sleeping?"

Cristina nods.

He sighs. "Has she woken up at all?"

"Yes, she's woken up once for feeding and a diaper change."

"And?"

"And then she went back to sleep."

He yawns and sits up. "Cristina, why am _I_ awake?"

"Owen, we have the perfect baby. We did it. Us. You and me. Well, mostly me. I didn't see you carrying a baby for nine months. But you were there."

He smiles and shakes his head. "Thank you for telling me."

"I thought you'd like to know," she says, climbing into bed beside him.

"And how are you?" Owen lies down again.

"Sore," she sighs, snuggling against him. "But it was totally worth it, having the perfect baby."

"Mmm-hmmm," he murmurs, wrapping his arms around her.

"Owen, this is our baby's first night at home and she's sleeping through the night. Meredith is going to be so jealous."

"Are you going to call her and gloat?"

"Not now. In the morning."

"Yes, let _Meredith_ sleep."

She playfully elbows him. He chuckles and kisses the back of her neck.

They lie there in silence for a few moments.

"I should go and check on her," Owen says. "Make sure she's still perfect."

"I'll come with you."

_Day Four_

Cristina is sitting on the couch, burping Chloe when Owen arrives from the airport with their guests.

"There she is!" Helen exclaims, throwing her coat at Saul and heading straight for the living room. "Let me see my grand-daughter!"

Cristina smiles and turns Chloe around. "Good timing, she just finished lunch." She carefully places Chloe in Helen's arms. Owen waves at her before taking the suitcases up to the guest room.

"She's beautiful," Helen coos, sitting down. "She is so beautiful. Cristina, she looks just like you did when you were a baby."

"Well done," Saul smiles, coming over to see the baby. "Hi Cristina."

"Hi Saul."

"What kind of formula are you using?" Helen asks. "Did you even read the list I emailed you?"

"Oh, no formula," Cristina shrugs. "Breast milk is the best for her right now."

Helen frowns. "_You're_ breastfeeding?"

Cristina sighs and tenses. "Yes. What's wrong with that?"

"Well, you're such a modern woman. And you don't like to be touched."

"I did a lot of research while on bed rest. This is the best for her right now. And don't worry, I'm not going to be one of those moms who breastfeed until the kid goes to school."

"I hope you won't be doing it in public."

Cristina rolls her eyes and gets off the couch. "No, the world is not getting a look at my breasts. Be right back."

She heads upstairs, where Owen is leaving the guest room. He takes one look at her expression and grins. "What did your mother say?"

"She thinks I'll be whipping my boobs out in public to breastfeed. And she's surprised. Why is everyone surprised that I'm breastfeeding?"

Owen smiles. "Well, you're not well-known for liking children. But I'm not surprised you're breastfeeding. And I think you're doing the right thing."

"Oh, I know you like it," Cristina smirks. "And I know why."

He smiles, drawing her close and deliberately not looking below her neck. "I agree with you, breast milk is the best thing for her. And there's nothing wrong with liking what motherhood has done to your body."

"What, are you ready to make another baby?" She teases him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Ready whenever you are," he says huskily.

She smiles. "Believe me, you'll know when I'm ready for sex again. You will _know_."

_Day Eight_

They both wake up at the sound of Chloe crying into the baby monitor.

"I just fed her," Cristina moans. "Half an hour ago. What does she want _now_?"

"I'll go see," Owen says, slowly getting out of bed. "Go back to sleep."

"Thank you."

He walks into the nursery and picks Chloe up. She stops crying as soon as he holds her. He checks her diaper – dry.

Owen yawns and sits down in the rocking chair. He looks down at Chloe in his arms, who is looking up at him, wide awake.

"Feeling lonely, were you?" She blinks at him. He chuckles and gestures to the bookshelf in the room, already full. "What shall it be tonight? Harry Potter, Dr Seuss, or Percy Jackson?"

_Day Thirteen_

"Hello!"

Owen smiles and hugs his mother, then takes her coat as she steps into their house.

"I thought I'd drop by," Kathy Hunt smiles. "Where is my grand-daughter?"

"In the living room," Owen says, hanging up her coat. "She's napping."

They go into the living room. Owen sits down on the couch, where he's folding laundry.

His mother peeks at Chloe sleeping in a bassinet at Owen's feet. She looks at the pile of clothes.

"That – is a lot of pink," she says carefully, sitting down on the couch.

Owen chuckles. "Our coworkers had a baby shower for us last week. _We_ did not choose all of that pink."

"Your first baby shower!" Mrs Hunt beams. "How was it?"

"It – was very pink," Owen says carefully. "There were a lot of ribbons and balloons. It was strange."

"Cristina must not have been pleased."

"Pleased with what?" Cristina walks downstairs.

"The pink baby shower," Owen smiles.

Cristina scowls.

"It wasn't all pink," Owen points out. "There was yellow, and green, and purple, and white."

"And bright pink, dark pink, and more pink. It was like the shower was sponsored by Pepto-Bismol," Cristina says, sitting down next to her mother-in-law. "Made _me_ want to barf. Oh! And I no longer have a name!"

Owen sighs.

"My name is no longer Cristina," she continues. "_Everyone_ called me 'Mommy'! 'How is Mommy doing?' 'Would Mommy like more coffee?' My name is now a role!"

"Exaggerate much?" Owen teases, not backing down from her glare. "A few people called you that, but not everyone."

"Says the man who is enjoying being called 'Daddy'," Cristina shoots back. "We're going to have to buy lots of clothes just to offset the pink."

Chloe stirs. Cristina reaches down and picks her up, then hands her to her mother-in-law. She smiles to see Kathy's face soften as she cradles the sleepy infant.

"At least she looks good in pink," Cristina finally says.


	2. Month Two February

**Month Two - February**

Cristina walks through the Pit, looking for Owen and Chloe. She smirks to see a crowd around the nurses station making cooing sounds. She walks towards the group.

"Here's Mommy!"

"Don't call me that!" Cristina scowls, to the amusement of several of the staff. Owen grins at her, while Chloe is being passed from one nurse to another.

She motions at Owen to step into his office for a private moment.

"How was your appointment?" he asks, closing the door.

"Good," she purrs, taking his hands. "When you get home tonight, be prepared to get naked. We're totally going to be having sex again."

"Oh really?"

"Really. Unless you want to do it right now?"

He laughs and kisses her. "Tempting, but I have surgery soon. You can wait a few hours?"

"Fine!" She kisses him again. "See you tonight."

**

Owen comes home to a smoky, messy kitchen. It looks like Cristina has been trying to cook. The range fan is whirring and a pot of something is bubbling over, while something red is turning nasty in a saucepan. He quickly turns off the burners and assesses the kitchen for any immediate danger. He opens a window to clear the smoke out. He goes upstairs.

Cristina is in Chloe's room, trying to rock their howling daughter, who is nearly purple with rage. Cristina looks exhausted and exasperated.

"Hi," he says quietly. "I won't ask how your afternoon has been."

"Good," she mutters. "She won't stop crying and I can't figure out why. She's fed, her diaper is clean and dry. Her temperature is normal. It's far too early for her to be teething. She woke up from her nap and started screaming."

"Can I take a turn?"

"Sure."

Owen picks up Chloe and walks with her, but she doesn't stop screaming. Cristina stays in the rocking chair and rubs her forehead.

"What happened to our perfect baby?" Cristina sighs.

"What happened to the kitchen?"

She makes a face. "I thought I'd make spaghetti." She sits up. "I think I left the burners on!"

"I turned them off."

"Oh, good."

"Why don't you go take a shower or something? I'll handle Chloe."

"I think I'll take a nap. Thanks." She stands up and leaves the room. She goes into their bedroom and shuts the door behind her, desperate for some quiet. She lies down on their bed. She pulls pillows over her ears and immediately falls asleep.

**

She wakes up later, to the sound of a vacuum cleaner. "That man cleans at the weirdest hours," she muses, opening the door. She cocks her head. She doesn't hear Chloe crying any more.

She walks downstairs. Owen is vacuuming, while a sleepy Chloe rests against his shoulder.

"Feel better?" Owen asks over the noise.

"She stopped crying!" Cristina exclaims. "How did you do that?"

Owen turns off the vacuum cleaner and they both hold their breath. Chloe is quiet.

"I called my mother," he confesses. "She thinks it might be colic. She said the vacuum cleaner would help and it did."

Cristina closes her eyes and takes a breath. "You called your _mother_? She must think we're idiots. We're doctors, for crying out loud."

"We're new parents," he points out. "Mom doesn't think we're stupid, just inexperienced. It's not like we ever had to operate on colic."

Cristina throws up her hands in defeat.

"I'll put her in her crib," Owen whispers, quietly walking to the stairs.

Cristina follows him upstairs. She watches as he carefully puts Chloe in her crib, and covers her up. They step out of the room.

"Hungry?" Owen asks quietly.

"No, I need a bath more than anything."

"Okay." He kisses her forehead. "It's all right if we don't have all the answers, you know."

"I don't know that, I'm Cristina Yang."

He smiles and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. "Go have a bath. _Relax_, Cristina Yang."

**

When Owen comes into their bathroom, Cristina is wrapped in a robe, towel-drying her hair.

"So did you have a craving for spaghetti?" Owen teases, unbuttoning his shirt. "That was some mess you made."

"It's one of the few things I know how to make," she shrugs. "I wanted this to be a special dinner and thought I could handle spaghetti."

He smiles softly. "You romantic, you."

"Speaking of romance," she smiles, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I'm all warm and relaxed now. It's time to resume my 'wifely duties'."

He shakes his head in amusement. "Don't call it 'duties', that is not sexy."

She laughs and gently bites his lower lip. "Let's get naked while she's asleep. Better?"

"Better." He smiles as he helps her remove her robe, sprinkling kisses along her damp skin.

"We've gone so long without sex," she sighs, helping him strip quickly. "Stupid bed rest. Your hand must be exhausted."

"When I have had time for that?" Owen growls, scooping her up. "We have a baby, remember?"

She laughs as he carries her to their bed and carefully lies her down.

"Turn off the lights," she instructs him, as he starts to nibble and lick her neck.

"Why?" He continues with what he is doing, ignoring her command.

"Because I have stretch marks now," she complains. "You don't need to see those."

He chuckles, skimming her breasts with his hands. "They're beautiful. You're beautiful."

"Owen!"

"Cristina!" He moves a hand down to gently stroke her stomach. "I like the changes in your body, okay? I _like_ the stretch marks – those are badges of honour, earned by carrying our baby."

"Freak."

He laughs, before kissing her again. "You did an amazing thing, Cristina," he murmurs, fingering her nipples. "You brought life into the world, and you've voluntarily gone months without wielding a scalpel. Your hands must be itching for surgery."

"Among other things." He hisses as she moves her hands down, grasping him firmly.

"Love you," Owen breathes into her ear, moving his hand lower. She smiles, stroking harder, making him moan. His hand slips between her legs. "Tell me if any of this hurts."

"This is good," Cristina assures him, as his hand dips into her heated moisture. "_Very_ good."

She feels him smile against her shoulder, then she makes a happy noise as he inserts one finger, then two. He slides down so that he can start licking and sucking her breasts. He proceeds to stroke her limbs, explore her skin, praising everything that he touches, until she's arching against his hand and her hands are clutching the sheet beneath her and she's begging him for relief.

He kisses her again, before positioning himself between her legs. They hold each others gaze as he enters her with one smooth, slow stroke. She smiles up at him as he takes her hands, lacing their fingers together. His hips move slowly and sinuously, as she adjusts her legs, desperate to take him as deeply as she can.

She whispers for him to go harder, faster. He just has to thrust once, really thrust, before she moans and starts surrendering to her need, gasping as she trembles with the force of her climax, squeezing his hands and arching off of the bed. He grins, placing kisses against her jaw as she collapses, as he continues to thrust over and over.

She clenches him with her interior muscles, making him moan. She's infused with a second wave of heat, as he starts getting erratic with his thrusts. This time, he joins her, spurting into her as she falls apart. He buries his face in her hair, chanting her name, as she pulls him close, squeezing his cock, murmuring encouraging words. Finally, he collapses against her, warm breath tickling her ear. He rolls over, gathering her into his arms. They lie there, panting, holding onto each other.

"I love you," she whispers against his face.

A wail emerges from the baby monitor on her nightstand.

"That's her hungry cry," Cristina murmurs, reluctantly sitting up.

"I'll go get her." Owen rolls out of bed, pulls on his robe and leaves the room. Cristina arranges her pillows and gets comfortable.

"We have a wet diaper situation," Owen speaks into the monitor. "Hold on."

Cristina smiles and stretches. Her body feels so good now, after the bath and the lovemaking. She listens to Owen talking to Chloe and smirks - who knew that such a man's man could be totally captivated by a tiny girl?

Owen reappears and hands Chloe over.

"What is she wearing?" Cristina quickly looks at the dark blue outfit, moving Chloe to her breast. Their daughter immediately latches on.

"Oh, just something I got for her." Owen climbs back into the bed and curls up next to Cristina, wrapping an arm around her and putting his chin on her shoulder so he can watch Chloe nurse.

Chloe looks up at her with such an expression of relief and gratitude, that Cristina feels her heart skip a beat. She looks closer at the outfit.

"A Seahawks onesie. I should have known," she chuckles.

"I didn't get her the _pink_ one," he says against her ear. Cristina glances at him. He looks utterly content and happy.

Cristina feels her heart skip a beat again, at the coziness of this scene.

"Tell me I haven't gone all warm and fuzzy," she says abruptly. "Tell me I'm hardcore."

Owen laughs, kissing her shoulder. "You are hardcore. You're a ruthless surgeon, and when you get back to work, people will tremble in your wake. You will hold hearts and you will heal them."

"Thank you."


	3. Month Three March

**Month Three - March**

Derek comes out of surgery, as Owen walks into the scrub room, dressed in his everyday clothes.

"Your turn," Owen grins. "Meredith's in labour."

"About time!" Derek laughs, pulling off his gown and reaching for the soap. "What's her status?"

"Contractions are coming fast and furious, and she is at 6 cm. Lexie is babysitting Robbie and Chloe. Cristina is with Meredith."

"Of course," Derek snorts. "So, Robbie and Chloe together? Those two hang out a lot. Could be the start of something."

"Don't go there," Owen replies amiably.

Derek raises his eyebrows. "Something wrong with my son?"

"No," Owen assures him. "I just don't want to think of my daughter dating anyone. Until she's, oh, 30 years old."

Derek laughs, drying his arms. "You're going to be the over-protective dad, aren't you? You'll require a copy of the guy's driver license and an itinerary of each date. And she'll have to call you every hour."

"Every half-hour," Owen says, clapping Derek on the back as they move towards the elevator. "Otherwise, I ride in the back."

"Don't forget the Internet. You can look at his MySpace and Facebook pictures and see what kind of guy he really is."

"You think of everything."

Derek laughs. "I'm just glad there was no Internet when I was a teenager."

"Me too. This is why I don't want to think of her dating – I know what boys are like."

"I'll make sure Robbie has a GPS unit strapped to his leg so you can track their movements."

"Don't go there!"

**

"She's perfect," Meredith says, looking at the baby in her arms. "Look at her hair!"

"Yeah, no split ends yet," Cristina smiles. She reaches out and quickly strokes the fine blonde hair of the sleeping baby. They are alone in the hospital room.

"I hope Johanna and Chloe will be each other's person," Meredith says quietly.

"Me too."

They look at each other and laugh.

"Look at us," Cristina snorts. "We're getting soft."

"Never!"

They smile and then watch the baby again.

"How does it feel to have two kids?" Cristina asks.

"Great. Scary. Wonderful. Terrifying." She looks up. "Are you thinking of having another already?"

"No, one is enough. If there's going to be another, I want to wait a few years, really cement my status as Cardio Goddess. I have it all planned out."

Meredith nods.

"It would be nice to have a boy, though," Cristina says. "I don't know why I feel that way but I do."

"A little Owen would be really cute."

"Wouldn't he?"

They look at each other again and laugh.

"I'd bet serious money you won't wait a few more years," Meredith grinned.

"Ha!"


	4. Month Four April

**Month Four - April**

Cristina walks into Owen's office and sits down. "You paged me?"

He nods, turning away from his computer. "Why did you dump Chloe on the Pit nurses this morning?"

"I got a last minute call to scrub in on a cardiac auto-transplantation," she shrugs. "I didn't have time to drop her off at the day care and you were in surgery. Why, did I hurt someone's feelings?"

"They're not a day care," he says. "They have jobs to do."

"They've volunteered to look after her before."

"That's the difference, they _volunteered_, for a couple of hours. You can't drop her off for the day as you please and say 'My husband is the Head of Trauma'. And you know, that doesn't make you very popular with people you might want favours from in the future."

Cristina sighs. "Fine. Is she still here?"

"No, once I got out of surgery, I took her to day care."

"Good." Cristina stands up.

"Not good."

They stare at each other.

"I'm not going to give up being a Cardio Goddess because I'm a mother," she says flatly. "I saved a life. That patient has been here for two months, waiting for a transplant."

He sighs. "I'm not asking you to do that."

"What was I supposed to do?"

"Not tell someone they have to babysit. At the very least, ask."

She snorts. "I did hurt someone's feelings."

He sighs. "I make sacrifices. I give up surgeries that I know I can do faster and better than anyone else in the Pit, so I can go home at a decent hour. You're not the only one who is addicted to holding a scalpel."

Cristina thinks. "Bailey made me babysit Tucker once. That sucked."

Owen smiles softly.

"Can we not fight?" Cristina asks, moving to settle on his lap. "Wanna do it?"

"I have another surgery in 15 minutes," Owen chuckles, drawing her close. "Tell me about the auto-transplantation."

"Oh! It was so kick ass…"


	5. Month Five May

**Month Five - May**

"So what do you two have planned for the day?" Cristina asks, walking into the kitchen.

"Breakfast is first," Owen smiles, spooning some food into Chloe's mouth as she smacks her hands on the tray of the high chair. "Then she's going to supervise while I do some cleaning, maybe I'll let her watch that surgery video I brought home, and maybe we will go and visit my mother."

"Sounds good." Cristina says, sitting down at the table to eat the omelette waiting for her. "It's never too early to start her on surgery videos. Although she doesn't have to be a surgeon."

Owen laughs. "When are we going to stop kidding ourselves? We both want her to be a surgeon."

"So it's not just me?"

"Nope. But she doesn't have to be a Trauma surgeon. She can choose her own specialty."

Cristina thinks as she chews. "She's pretty calm, when she's fed and dry and well-rested. She might be too laid-back to be a Cardio Goddess."

"You know, she could be a veterinarian. They perform surgery."

"No! She's got genius hands. She's going to work on humans. You win better awards that way."

"Grandpa Saul would love it if she were an oral surgeon too," Owen says, wiping Chloe's mouth.

"Her talents would be wasted working on teeth," Cristina says decisively. "After my mom married him, all I heard about was teeth at the dinner table. She's better than teeth."

Owen smiles. "I think this is why we pretend that we don't want her to be a surgeon. So we don't start with really high expectations."

Cristina snorts. "Fine. We'll start with – ophthalmology. Eyes are important. It will be perfectly acceptable if she becomes an opthalmologic surgeon."

"Ears, nose, and throat?" Owen suggests.

She rolls her eyes. "That's barely better than teeth."

He laughs. "We're talking about someone who can't even feed herself yet."

"But some day she will. Some day she will display the fine motor skills that we have bred into her, and we need to be ready to guide her to surgical greatness." Cristina's eyes start to glow with surgical fervor.

Owen turns and stares at her. "You scare me sometimes, you know that?"

"Like you didn't know that I'm hardcore."

"True."

**

Cristina comes home from her shift, and finds Owen and Chloe splayed out on the living room floor, surrounded by toys.

"What are you two up to?" Cristina asks, as she takes off her coat.

He looks over and grins. "She discovered she has feet."

"So?"

"It's cute!"

She blinks at him, uncomprehending. She walks over.

"Let me put this into hardcore terms," he chuckles. "She grabs them and she looks at them and she tries to figure them out. She's displaying an interest in anatomy while improving her hand-eye coordination. She could be on the road to being an orthopedic genius."

"Ah," Cristina smiles in amusement. "I like the sound of that."

"Look, I'll show you." Owen coaxes a toy out of Chloe's hands, and guides one of her feet into her hand. She dimples and grabs her other foot.

"That is so cute!" Cristina exclaims. She looks surprised at the words coming out of her own mouth.

Owen smiles but wisely says nothing.

"So what did you two get done today?" Cristina asks, sitting down next to him.

"She played with her feet, and I watched."

"Makes my concomitant mitral valve repair sound absolutely boring."

"It's nothing compared to feet."


	6. Month Six June

**Month Six - June**

Cristina looks at the pile of duffel bags and fishing gear stacked in the entrance of their house.

"You are coming back, right? Tell me you're not running away from home," she says to Owen.

Owen laughs as he sets down a cooler. "Of course I will come back. Can't stay away from my favourite girls."

She yawns and shifts Chloe from one hip to the other. "Don't get eaten by a bear."

"Yes ma'am." He checks his watch. "I should load up the truck now, I told Derek I'd by there by 6."

"Insane." She smirks. "Getting up this early when there's no surgery waiting for you."

"You're up."

"Because of Miss Chloe here."

He smiles and kisses her, then kisses Chloe. "Be good for Mommy."

Chloe smiles back. A sad expression quickly flickers over Owen's face, before he grabs some bags and takes them out to his truck.

"He's going to miss you," murmurs Cristina, smoothing Chloe's curls. "I know you think he's probably going to work, but he's going away for a whole week. He and Uncle Derek are taking Robbie fishing for the first time. They're going to pee outdoors and do man stuff."

Chloe leans against her. Cristina smiles. "If you want, you can go with him in a few years. Just don't ever ask me to go too."

**

"So how is your week of single motherhood?" Meredith asks over the phone.

"It sucks," Cristina replies, spooning food into Chloe's mouth. "Yours?"

"Terrible. Johanna's got a cold."

"Again?"

"Yep. She picked it up at day care," sighs Meredith.

"You should have seen this one kid at our day care. He looked like a snot factory when I picked Chloe up today. I just wanted to tell his parents to keep him the hell home."

"You're such a mama bear."

"You know it."

Meredith laughs. "I wonder how the guys are liking all the rain?"

"No clue. Hopefully they won't get swept away by some flash flood."

"Cristina!"

"Please. Owen can build a raft and float them to safety."

"And you know that how?"

"He was a Boy Scout. He's _Owen_."

**

Feeling lonely, Cristina takes Chloe into her bed. Which she soon discovers is a mistake.

"You're never going to sleep, are you?" Cristina yawns. She looks at Chloe, in the dim light. Chloe is sitting up on the bed, smiling at her.

"You are so like your father," she murmurs. "Cheerful at the craziest hours. Wanting attention when I want to sleep."

She smiles softly. "It's okay though, I'm quite fond of him. You look like me and you act like him. Some day, you'll be pulling icicles out of somebody. Although I'd prefer you didn't go off to war."

Cristina pauses and tilts her head. "Did you hear something downstairs?"

She listens carefully – she definitely heard a sound downstairs. Adrenaline kicks into gear and she grabs the nearest object she can see, hits the alarm button in the hallway, and rushes to the top of the stairs.

"Whoever is down there, you better get out right now!" Cristina yells. She holds her breath. She is suddenly acutely aware she's wearing just a t-shirt and panties. Clutching a book.

Familiar laughter comes from downstairs. "Cristina, it's me!" Owen shouts. A light comes on. The phone starts to ring.

She walks down the stairs carefully, holding up the book as a weapon. She sees Owen standing in the living room, soaking wet. He takes one look at her and doubles over in laughter.

"Don't laugh!" Cristina scowls and picks up the phone. She speaks to their security company while Owen takes off his jacket and boots. Once she gets off the phone, she glares at him.

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be doing man stuff in the woods!"

"A book?" Owen snorts, pointing to the object in her hand. "You were going to fight off an intruder with a book?"

"I'm hardcore!" Cristina snaps.

"You are, babe, you are," he laughs, walking over to her and gathering her up in a hug. "I was _terrified_. You might have read me to death."

"Oh stop. You're getting me all wet. Why are you here, anyways?"

"Nice to see you too," he murmurs, kissing her neck. "It rained the whole time, Robbie hates fishing, and we ran out of beer. After being stuck in a trailer with a bored three year old for a few days, Derek and I looked at each other and wondered why we weren't at home in our dry beds with our ladies."

She shakes her head and smirks, wrapping her arms around his neck. "So you came home without calling first?"

"Why, you got a boyfriend upstairs?"

"If I did, I'd make him fight off an intruder first." She kisses him.

"Ha! Well, I'm sorry I scared you."

"Welcome home, Owen."

He kisses her, his wet beard scratching her chin. "You miss me?"

"Chloe missed her manservant," she teases.

"I want to go see her."

"Lucky you, she's awake."

They go upstairs. Chloe's face lights up and she shrieks when she sees Owen. He scoops her up in a bear hug.

"She got bigger," Owen chuckles. "You remembered to feed her."

"What is with you?" Cristina asks.

"I _missed_ you," he grins, snuggling Chloe. "Both of you."

"That's better."


	7. Month Seven July

**Month Seven - July**

"Flu Central, how may I help you?"

Meredith laughs into the phone. "Chloe's still sick, huh?"

"Yes, and now Owen is too," Cristina sighs. "Not that he will admit it. He says he's just tired from working too much."

"Sounds like someone I know."

"Ha ha."

"How is Chloe doing?"

"She's miserable, but she's taking her fluids. She's not getting dehydrated with me around," Cristina says determinedly.

"So I guess lunch is off?"

"Yeah, sorry." Meredith hears crying in the background as Cristina sighs. "Gotta go, Dr Yang is needed."

"Okay bye. Call me if you need something."

"Bye."

Cristina disconnects the call and stuffs her cell phone into a pocket as she walks into the nursery. Chloe is lying down in her crib and crying hard. Cristina reaches in and picks her up, placing her hand on her forehead. "Poor Chloe. Still got a fever." Chloe nestles against her shoulder - and promptly fills her diaper, still crying.

"Oh gross!" Cristina wrinkles her nose. Her eyes grow wide as Chloe burps, then vomits down her back. "Oh you didn't - oh, no!" She holds Chloe away from her and looks down at the mess spilling out of the diaper. She looks down at herself and grimaces. "Okay, that was uncalled for. I'm trying to help you here, kid."

"What happened?"

Cristina turns to see Owen leaning against the doorway, dressed in a t-shirt and worn pyjama bottoms, pale and tired.

"What do you think?" she snaps. "She's got diarrhea and she puked on me. I'm going to give her a bath and see if she'll calm down."

"How can I help?" Owen yawns.

"You can barely stand," she retorts, taking Chloe over to the changing table. "Okay, just for a minute, make sure she doesn't roll off."

Owen walks over to the table and tries to soothe their howling daughter, while Cristina peels off her soiled clothing until she's standing there in her underwear. He pulls off his t-shirt and hands it to her.

"Thank you. You can go back to bed, I've got this now," she mutters, pulling on his shirt. She looks at him closely. "Did you drink anything recently? You look like hell. I left you some of that sports drink you like on your nightstand."

He makes a face. "I don't feel like drinking anything."

"Well, you make me take that crap when I'm sick, so I'm telling you, you will have some too." She quickly glances at him as she undresses Chloe. She softens her tone. "Please Owen, have something to drink. I have my hands full taking care of her and making sure she stays hydrated, I can't handle more than one patient at a time."

He nods grumpily. "Fine." He turns and shuffles back to their bedroom.

"I'll come see you after her bath!" Cristina yells at him. She sighs as Chloe starts to really scream. "Come on, babe. Let's get you cleaned up."

**

Finally, she has Chloe bathed and dressed and calmed down. She sits and rocks with her, giving her another bottle of pediatric fluids. Then she checks her temperature and puts her back into her crib, hoping she's ready for a nap.

"Give me fifteen minutes, okay?" Cristina whispers. "Fifteen minutes so I can have a shower because I _stink_."

She quickly goes to their bedroom, noting that Owen is lying still in the bed. She frowns as she glances at the bottle of sports drink she left him - he has barely touched it. She strips down and jumps into the shower.

She decides it's the best shower she's ever taken, minus the times that Owen has joined her. She takes longer than fifteen minutes, just happy to have some time for herself.

When she walks back into the bedroom, wrapped in a robe, she contemplates Owen's still form. "You awake?" she asks softly.

He lies there, still as a rock. She walks over and looks at his face. He's far too pale for her liking. She steps back and hits him with a pillow.

He sits up, blinking and confused. "What? What's wrong?"

"You need to drink something," she says firmly, reaching for the bottle. "I'm going to the medicine cabinet and getting you the same damn pills that you make me take and you will take them. Or I'm calling for an ambulance full of husky guys to give you an IV."

Fifteen minutes later, he's drunk enough to satisfy her. She checks his temperature with Chloe's ear thermometer. He's too weak to protest.

She gently shoves him until he lies down, and pulls the blankets over him. "This is the first time I've ever seen you sick," she murmurs. "You are a worse patient than me. I'm going to keep a better eye on you."

He coughs. "I can handle myself."

"No you can't," she replies firmly. "I left you alone too long and you got dehydrated. That won't happen again."

"How's Chloe?"

"Cleaned up and asleep."

"That's good." He pauses. "Did I do something to scare you? Why did you hit me with a pillow?"

"You looked like shit, that's what scared me. Now I'm going to go downstairs and make you something to eat. What do you want?"

"My mom's chicken soup," he says with a small smile.

"We have canned soup."

He grimaces.

"Owen, I can do many things, but I can't teach myself how to cook like your mother in a short amount of time." She gently rubs his temples. "Soup or a sandwich?"

"Toast with jam please," he says. "And Mom always gave me ginger ale when I was sick..."

"Toast and jam with ginger ale coming up," she promises, climbing off of the bed.

**

He gets grumpy when she takes away his plate and tries to tuck him in.

"I'm not a baby," he mutters, burrowing under the blankets.

"Sure," she chuckles, laying her hand against his forehead. "Come on, it must be a nice change, _me_ waiting on _you_. Enjoy it while it lasts."

"You are busy with Chloe," he yawns. "Sorry to be a pain."

Chloe's voice crackles in the baby monitor as she starts to cry.

"Speaking of Chloe..."

"You get some rest," Cristina says firmly. "While Dr Yang goes to her other patient."

"Yes ma'am!"

**

Later that night, Cristina walks into their bedroom, carrying Chloe.

Owen blinks at her from the bed and sits up. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she assures him. "Her fever is going down and she's feeling sociable. I thought I'd bring her in so you could see her."

"Good." He looks at her. "How are you doing?"

"I am tired, but I've had worse days at the hospital." She sits down on the bed with Chloe on her lap. She's brought a few of Chloe's favourite toys, and gives them to her.

Owen arranges the pillows so he can sit up more comfortably. He finds himself watching Cristina, noticing how her eyes never leave Chloe. She bends her head over her maternally, occasionally running a finger through Chloe's black curls, or placing her hand against her forehead. Their little girl plays contentedly, secure in the safety of her mother's lap. If she drops a toy, Cristina patiently picks it up and gives it back to her.

"I knew you'd be a good mother," Owen says softly.


	8. Month Eight August

**Month Eight - August**

"Happy Anniversary Owen."

"Happy Anniversary babe." They clink beer bottles as a toast.

Cristina looks at Owen and smiles. They're eating outside in their back yard, seated in the shade. Chloe is lying on a blanket at their feet, with some of her cherished toys, already fed.

He winks at her before cutting into his steak. She smiles again - their friends had insisted they "should" have a big party for their first anniversary. The word "should" made Cristina bristle. Owen was more than happy to agree to having a private barbecue and using vacation time for a weekend together instead. "We have everything we need," he shrugged.

She looks down at the blanket - and her eyes widen. "Look!" she whispers to Owen.

He looks down at the empty blanket - and at Chloe, slowly crawling away. He chuckles, putting down his utensils so he can reach down and scoop her up off of the grass.

"Look who's mobile," he smiles, placing her back on the blanket.

"Finally!"

He laughs. "I told you, tall babies are sometimes slower to crawl."

They watch as she rolls over and gets ready to crawl again.

"We're going to need a bigger blanket," Cristina notes.

"And to babyproof everything she can reach now," Owen adds. "Guess it's a good thing we didn't have plans this weekend." He looks thoughtful.

"You're already making a shopping list in your head," she says dryly.

"I've been stocking up on supplies the last couple of months," he confesses. "I should only have to go to the hardware store once."

"They should give you your own parking spot, you're there so much."

"They should." They laugh.

Cristina reaches down and grabs Chloe, as she crawls past her. "You're getting to be a big girl," she groans, placing her back on the blanket. "We must be feeding you right."

Cristina reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone. "Crawl for Mommy," she instructs Chloe. "Auntie Meredith will want to see this."

Owen bursts out laughing, earning a glare.

"What?" Cristina demands.

"You called yourself 'Mommy'," he grins. "Are you going to scrapbook Chloe's first crawl?"

She sticks her tongue out at him, before snapping a photograph of Chloe crawling away.

"I am documenting our child's newest achievement," she says curtly. "My colleague in maternity will want to be informed of this newest development."

He snorts. "Okay, 'Mommy'."

"Oh don't do that. That's twisted." She finishes sending her message and puts her phone back in her pocket, as Owen picks up Chloe and puts her back on the blanket.

He smiles and lifts up a napkin on their picnic table. She raises her eyebrows to see a wrapped gift.

"Got you something," he smiles, handing it to her.

She shakes her head, smiling as she unwraps it. She bites her lips when she sees the photo frame, with a professional portrait of Chloe in it.

"When did you do this?" she smiles, running her fingers over the photo.

"Oh, I found time," Owen grins, watching her reaction. "See, the traditional first anniversary gift is paper, and the photo is printed on paper."

She rolls her eyes in amusement. "Thank you for this lovely and traditional gift." She leans over the table and kisses him.

"I got you something too," she says, reaching into Chloe's diaper bag. She pulls out an envelope and hands it to him. He opens it, and raises his eyebrows at the brochure.

"A cruise," he says. "You booked us for a cruise?"

"Uh huh," she smiles. "You said you wanted a family vacation next year. I booked us for February. We'll cruise the Bahamas and get lots of sun and just relax."

He smiles. "Thank you."

She purses her lips. "What - you hate cruises?"

"I'm sure I'll enjoy this one," Owen says hastily. "It's just - I prefer roughing it. But I think I can handle a week in the sun with my two favourite ladies."

"Well, camping as a family is never going to happen. But I'll pack some extra tiny bikinis for you."

"I don't look good in bikinis," he smirks.

"Smart ass." They grin at each other.


	9. Month Nine September

**Month Nine - September**

"Cristina, Meredith and Lexie are here," Owen announces. In the bathroom mirror, she can see his reflection raise his eyebrows at her outfit.

"What?" She puts the finishing touches on her make-up.

"Nothing," he smiles, coming up from behind her and hugging her. "You are looking exceptionally hot."

"Thank you." She grins as he slides his hands down to her butt. "You're going to make me late."

"So?"

"We're not having a quickie with people downstairs."

"We could be quiet. And Chloe's in her crib," he whispers in her ear.

"I don't like being quiet."

"So?"

She turns and kisses him. "Stop it! Now get out of my way, I haven't been drunk dancing since I got pregnant and I am going to make up for it."

"Have fun," he grins. "I'm just concerned that you won't enjoy yourself-"

"-I will-"

"-with hordes of horny young men begging you for your number. You won't be able to move on the dance floor. Maybe you should change." He winks.

"Ha!" She gives him another quick kiss, then sashays out the bathroom door, swinging her hips in her short dress.

**

Meredith and Cristina stumble off the dance floor, madly giggling as they collapse at their table.

"That blonde was definitely checking you out," Cristina slurs. "He couldn't take his eyes off of your rack."

"Thank you, pregnancies," Meredith grins, looking down. "Having babies has made us hotter than ever."

Lexie rolls her eyes and has another sip of her ginger ale.

"What?" Cristina asks. "You'll have a great rack too, soon. You'll get out of bed and 'pop!' New tits."

"To pregnancy boobs," Meredith toasts, holding up her drink. Lexie smiles and holds up her glass. Cristina slops her vodka tonic, joining in.

"Of course, with great tits comes great responsibility," Cristina paraphrases. "Be prepared to have a baby hanging off of you all the time."

"You'll learn to eat and shower one-handed," Meredith chimes in. "You'll develop great back and shoulder muscles."

Lexie smiles and pats her slightly swollen stomach. "I can't wait."

Cristina looks at her and sighs. "I miss being pregnant."

"Really? Says the woman who almost got divorced while on bed rest?" Meredith asks.

"I don't miss _that_," Cristina laughs. "I grew a person! That's hardcore. I miss being that hardcore."

They exchange glances and smiles.

"Why are we out getting drunk while our babies are at home?" Meredith asks.

"We are more than wives and mothers and awesome surgeons," Cristina says. "We are smokin' hot women. Come on, let's go back on the dance floor."

**

Lexie sits in her car and sighs as Cristina fumbles with the keys at her front door. Owen comes to the rescue by opening it from inside. He waves his thanks at Lexie.

"Have fun?" He chuckles as Cristina kicks off her heels and almost knocks herself over, in their foyer.

"I did!"

Owen steadies Cristina as she walks towards the stairs.

"How was Miss Chloe tonight?" Cristina slurs as he helps her up the stairs.

"Good. She's on the verge of saying her first word. I can feel it."

"It's going to be 'ma-ma'".

"Followed closely by 'scalpel'."

"Ha!" She gets to the top of the stairs, then leans against a wall. She smirks at Owen. "There were a lot of cute young boys at the club tonight."

"Really?" He grins, placing both hands against the wall, framing her head, slowly trapping her body with his. "How young?"

"Too young." She arches her back, rubbing herself against him. "I felt like a MILF."

Owen smiles. "But you _are_ a mother I'd –"

"Don't call me that," she warns. She kisses him, sliding her tongue into his mouth. "MILFs are old," she says when they come up for air.

"You feel young to me," he murmurs, sliding his hands down her back, to her ass.

"Good answer."


	10. Month Ten October

**Month Ten - October**

The phone rings in the middle of the night.

"This had better be serious," Cristina mutters. Owen rolls over and grabs the receiver.

"Hello?" he mumbles. He listens for a few seconds, then suddenly sits upright.

"I'm here," he says into the receiver. Cristina watches him curiously as he turns on a light.

"Okay." Owen looks sideways at her before asking, "which hospital?"

Cristina sits up and mouths "what's happening?" to Owen.

"Okay, keep us updated when you get there. Did you want to talk with Cristina?" Owen listens. "Okay. Call us as soon as you have news. Take care." Owen hangs up the phone and turns to her.

"That was Saul," he says quietly, taking her hands. "Helen - your mother may have had a stroke."

**

"Brainstem stroke," Mrs Hunt repeats, holding a sleeping Chloe, as Owen throws clothes into a suitcase in the master bedroom.

"That's what her doctors think. She's barely responsive. Which is better than unresponsive, which is what she was four hours ago."

"What - do they - will she - ?" His mother struggles to find the words.

"She may come out of it with some motor function. She may not make it at all. Could be pseudocoma - Locked In Syndrome."

"Which -"

"- which means she may be totally paralyzed, and maybe only able to blink."

"Oh dear."

"I know. It's too soon to know just yet." They both turn and look through the open door to the hallway, where Cristina is pacing back and forth, barking instructions into her cell phone.

"Thanks again for coming over," Owen says. "I wish we could take Chloe with us, but she's hasn't gotten over her cold yet."

His mother nods, and strokes Chloe's hair. "I'll take good care of her, I promise. You need to focus on Helen. Keep me updated."

**

She runs on pure adrenaline, ever since she got the news. She watches herself go through the motions clinically. She quickly starts calling in favours from afar, arranging for consultations, while Owen handles the details of babysitting and getting them on the plane to Los Angeles. She only slows down to kiss Chloe goodbye before heading to the airport.

She only turns off her cell phone when they board the plane and only because Owen insists she do so.. She makes it through the safety instructions and take-off. She refuses to get a headset for the TV. She stares out the window at the clouds. Owen watches her carefully.

She realizes that for the first time ever, her mother won't be waiting at the airport for her. That is when Cristina breaks.

**

Her mother is conscious in a paralyzed body. So far, all she can do is blink. They work out a system of blinks for "yes" and "no".

Cristina patiently explains everything to Helen's constant stream of friends.

"Once the swelling goes down, we'll be better able to asses the extent of the damage," she explains, debriefing some visitors outside of the ICU. "She can hear everything we say. Don't talk about her in her presence as if she can't hear you. She's paralyzed, not deaf. She has full sensation. She likes it when people hold her hand. She can barely move her eyes, and only vertically, so move where she can see you when you enter the room and greet her. If you see her mouth move, it's an involuntary reflex right before she coughs. The coughing is also involuntary."

Derek flies to Los Angeles. Cristina scours over the MRIs and the test results with him, looking for the tiniest slivers of hope. She knows she is being a pain but she doesn't care. She knows the odds but she fights against them anyways.

She talks with Saul. They spend a lot of time together at Helen's bedside. He looks to her for guidance. Owen brings them food and makes all of the phone calls that they can't handle.

She sits there and she holds her mother's hand. It's strange, how her mother's hand no longer reacts to her touch. She chatters on about Chloe and how fast she is growing and all of the things that she is learning, even though doing so makes her miss Chloe more and more.

She thinks she's never hated the sound of a ventilator more.

**

Owen smiles only when he talks with Chloe on the phone. He relays messages to and from their friends. He has long talks with Saul when they are able to get Cristina to go sleep in a quiet room.

**

Meredith listens to her cry long-distance.

"Everything is in the past," Cristina says. "All the times that I wasn't good enough. None of that matters right now."

She pauses.

"I'm sure I'll be annoyed with her all over again in the future. But not now."

**

The tests have all been run, Helen has not been improving, there is nothing more to discover. It is as they feared. Locked In Syndrome.

"So that's it?" Saul asks quietly, as they sit in the conference room.

Cristina is silent, staring at the table. The doctors on Helen's case wait patiently. Derek looks pensive.

"Very few people can recover from Locked In Syndrome," Owen explains gently. "Those that do, are much younger and their strokes aren't as severe."

"So she either spends the rest of her life in a nursing home or -"

"- or, if she chooses, if you agree, she can be taken off of life support. She can be given morphine to make her comfortable. This is a decision you and Cristina must make with her."

Saul glances at Cristina, who is still staring at the table.

"What would you tell me if she wasn't your mother-in-law?" Saul asks Owen.

"She requires round-the-clock care from now on. As you know, she is conscious, she can hear us, but she can barely breathe on her own, and will have to spend the rest of her life on a ventilator. Her body can't even regulate its own body temperature. It was a devastating stroke." He pauses to carefully consider his words. "She was an active woman. If she wants to be removed from life support, then I would tell you that it is for the best. And she must be part of the decision. This is not a decision you have to make alone."

Saul glances at his stepdaughter again. "Cristina?"

She shakes her head. She's mute in the face of the facts.

One of the doctors clears her throat. "We need to know if we should schedule surgery to proceed with a permanent feeding tube and a tracheotomy."

Owen shakes his head at her. "Give us some time."

**

"Where are we going?" Cristina protests as Owen urges her to join him in an elevator after the meeting.

"Someplace good," he says, taking her hand.

She raises her eyebrows when he takes them down to the basement. He leads her through a labyrinth of hallways in the strange hospital. _He didn't_...

He smiles as he shows her into a boiler room.

"You found a vent," she sighs, shaking her head in amusement.

"I figured we needed one," he grins, stepping onto the grille. "Come here, you."

She rolls her eyes and joins him. He takes her hands and kisses her.

A breeze shoots up. She opens her mouth to say something sarcastic - and crumples. Owen catches her, and sits down with her, cradling her as she begins to sob.

**

That night, Cristina and Saul sit with Helen.

"I asked her," he says quietly. "As many different ways as I could think of. She gave me the same answer every time. She does not want to continue like this. It is as we expected."

Cristina closes her eyes and strokes her mother's hand. She had gotten the same answer from Helen earlier.

"She's proud of you," Saul continues. "She's proud of your career, of you and Chloe. She has said she couldn't have picked a better son-in-law than Owen. Every new picture she'd get, she'd print out and show them to her friends. 'See my daughter. See my grand-daughter. See my family,' she'd tell perfect strangers. She is so proud."

**

Meredith gasps when they see Owen waiting for them at LAX, tired and thinner. He smiles quietly as Robbie shouts, "Uncle Owen!", running up to him and grabbing his legs.

Chloe throws her little arms around his neck as she tries to leap from Mrs Hunt's arms, happy to see him after a week apart.

"You look terrible," his mother tells him, with a slight smile. Meredith leans in and hugs him, holding Johanna.

Owen kisses Chloe on her cheeks, then turns to the adults. "They removed Helen from life support two hours ago. Cristina and Saul are with her. She's comfortable."

**

"Thank you for coming," Cristina says quietly, letting Meredith hug her at Helen's bedside.

"And I'm so happy to see you!" She smiles as Chloe gets handed to her. She hugs her close, smelling her hair. "I _missed_ you," she says frankly. "And when did you get so big?"

Kathy moves over to where Helen can see her, and speaks to her quietly. Helen is breathing raggedly.

Cristina holds up Chloe so Helen can see her. Chloe looks curiously at the woman in the bed, and the rabbi standing beside her, then turns and grabs Cristina's face.

"Ow," Cristina laughs quietly. "She missed me."

"Did you see how Helen's eyes widened when she saw Chloe?" Saul gestures towards Helen.

Cristina hands Chloe to Owen. "You're stronger, hold up our big _big_ girl again so Mom can see her face."

Owen obliges. They stand there, as Helen breathes on, staring at her family.

**

They're sitting in the Quiet Room when Owen finally enters. "She's gone," he says simply, sitting down on the couch where his mother is rocking Chloe. Meredith stands up and leaves the room, going to her person. Kathy passes Chloe over to Owen.

"Thanks for coming out here," Owen says quietly. "We all appreciate it."

Derek nods sadly, then looks at his children, sleeping on another couch. "We're family, don't you know that by now?'

Owen nods. "Yes, yes I do."

"But Robbie can still date Chloe?"

Owen chuckles weakly. "When she's 30." Chloe grabs his beard. "Okay, 29."

**

"Welcome to sitting shiva," Cristina says, settling down next to Owen, on the living room floor of Saul and Helen's townhouse. He smiles softly at her, cradling a sleeping Chloe in his arms.

"Rabbi Rudin explained everything to me," he says, gesturing to his sock feet. "Let me know if I forget something or do something wrong."

"You know that I'm not Orthodox, you can't offend me."

"I don't want to offend Saul, or any of their friends," he says, nodding to the crowded kitchen. "She was well-loved."

"Yes." She leans against him, and looks at Chloe. "Owen, why is she wearing pink?"

He smiles sheepishly. "Some of your mother's friends said she couldn't wear anything new, so they got that dress from somewhere. See, it has a black bow on it for the - the-"

"The keriah."

"They brought five different outfits and she grabbed the pink one," he says. "I think we have to face facts, Cristina. Our daughter - likes to wear pink."

Cristina closes her eyes. "I was afraid of that."

They sit in silence, watching the people moving around the townhouse.

"I miss surgery," Cristina says.

"When we get back, I'll play favourites and try to get you something complicated and ten hours long."

"Oh, I do love you."


	11. Month Eleven November

**Month Eleven - November**

Cristina's sleeping in again, on a rare Saturday when they are both free. Owen takes care of the household, as always. He takes care of Chloe, feeding her breakfast and giving her a bath and reading with her.

She's babbling baby talk as they lie on the couch. And the word spills out. "Da-da," she says firmly, pulling on his beard.

"_What_ did you say?" Owen grins.

"Da-da," she repeats. Then she babbles some words that he can't understand.

"Let's go tell Mommy," he says, scooping her up. He carries her to the master bedroom. Cristina's sitting up in bed, reading from a medical journal.

"Hey babe," he says, sitting down on the bed. "She spoke. She called me Da-da."

Cristina looks at him quickly. "She's just talking baby talk." She turns her attention back to the book.

Owen reaches over and closes the book. She frowns at him. "Do you mind?"

"Yes, I mind," he says, putting Chloe down on the bed. "She called me Da-da, twice. This is important, Cristina."

She closes her eyes and leans her head back. "Fine, she spoke. Congratulations."

He sits next to her, and takes her hand, stroking it. "I'm worried about you," he says quietly. "You're not as – engaged – in our lives as I'd like you to be. All you do is work and research and sleep."

She says nothing. He thinks back to his therapy with Dr Wyatt, searching for the right thing to say.

"I'm worried you're slipping away from me," he confesses. "Of course you've changed, I _know_ what grief is like –"

"I'm _fine_."

"_No_, you're not." They sit there in silence. Chloe crawls onto his lap.

"I'm starting to feel like a single father," he says quietly. Cristina's eyes open wide and she turns to stare at him, pulling her hand away from his.

"_How_ can you say that?" Cristina sputters. "I feed her, I take care of her!"

"But you don't sit with her, you don't read with her, you don't just spend time with her anymore. You don't spend time with us." He looks at her firmly, refusing to back down. "You're hiding in bed with a medical journal. Have you thought about speaking with someone about this?"

"I don't need to," she snaps.

"You need to do something," he shoots back. "You're burying yourself in work –"

"- I lost time having a baby, _remember_?"

"- you _chose_ to have a baby, remember?"

They glare at each other.

He breaks eye contact first. "This is better than ignoring me," he says with a slight smile.

"_Get out!_" Cristina yells.

"Fine," he nods. He moves Chloe off of his lap, stands up and leaves the room.

Cristina stares at the open door, blood boiling. She looks at Chloe, who is sitting on the bed, watching her, wide-eyed.

"I don't know what he's talking about," Cristina murmurs, picking up Chloe and holding her.

"Da-da," Chloe says.

Cristina rolls her eyes, and starts stroking Chloe's hair. "Look at your hair, it's getting long. You're due for a hair cut, aren't you?"

Cristina bites her lower lip and fumes. "I'm going to prove Daddy wrong," she tells Chloe.

**

Half an hour later, she comes downstairs, fully dressed, carrying Chloe. He's left a note. _Gone for a run. _

She nods. "Good." He always feels better after a run.

She leaves him a note. _Took Chloe out. Be back later_.

**

They return a few hours later. He's napping on the couch.

She stands there and watches him, holding Chloe in her arms. She notices for the first time that Owen has a few white hairs in his beard.

She bites her lower lip and remembers how slowly he started to talk with her about his trauma, about the choking. How it hurt him to do so, but he did it anyways, because he wanted to be with her that much.

"Da-da," Chloe says, reaching for him.

Cristina laughs. Owen slowly wakes up, looking up at her cautiously.

"Move over," she chuckles. He sits up, blinking. She sits down beside him, lets Chloe crawl into his arms.

"We went to the hairdresser's," Cristina says.

"I see that." He fingers Chloe's curls. "Looks good. You look good."

Cristina leans against him. "You might be right about me working too much. A little."

"It's okay." He pulls her close. "I'm not expecting you to 'snap out of it', you know."

"I know." She squeezes his leg. "You, more than anyone, _know_."

He kisses her forehead.

"Did you hear her say 'Da-da'?" Owen asks.

"Yes, fine, she said it!" They laugh together.

"What do you say we go out to supper?" Cristina asks.

"Sounds good."


	12. Month Twelve December

**Month Twelve - December**

"Cristina, wake up". She feels a heavy hand on her shoulder, shaking her.

"Wha?" She lifts her head and stares at Owen, standing over her and holding a sleepy Chloe. "What's the emergency?"

"No emergency, it's Christmas morning!" He grins down at her.

"You are way too cheerful," she mutters, rubbing her eyes. She looks at the clock. "_Why_ are you waking me at 6 for non-surgical reasons?"

"It's a Hunt family tradition," he says. "Up at 6 for presents!"

She glares at him. "You're a sick, sick man, Owen Hunt."

He nods with a smile.

She sighs. "Why have I never heard of this tradition until today?"

"We didn't have a kid before. Come on, I've got the coffee started downstairs."

Cristina looks at Chloe, yawning in her father's arms. She looks again at Owen, unnaturally happy for such an early hour.

"You could have warned me about this tradition," she grumbles, sitting up. "What other surprises do you have for me?"

"Well, after presents, we go into the woods and shoot the Christmas turkey," he says with a straight face.

"The Hunts' Christmas hunt?"

"Ha! Good one."

**

Despite herself, Cristina enjoys Christmas morning. It's rare that she sees Owen so boyish, sitting with Chloe and enthusiastically helping her open gifts. There's no trace of the haunted man who came back from Iraq, or the quicksilver trauma surgeon who rules the Pit with a heady mixture of impulsiveness and protocols. She sees a relaxed and happy father, sitting on the floor in a t-shirt and sweatpants, arms around his little girl.

"Here's another one for Chloe." Owen hands her a package. Cristina presses her lips together, reading her mother's handwriting on the tag. Saul had sent a box full of presents that had been bought and wrapped in the summer, all for Helen's first grandchild.

Sighing, she opens the present. She holds up a red velvet dress. Owen watches her reaction.

"This is lovely," she says. "And it's not pink."

Owen smiles and briefly touches her hand. "I, um, have a mushy idea," he says.

"Go on."

"What do you think about inviting Saul to join us on the cruise in February?"

Cristina looks down at the dress in her lap. His big hands take hers.

"I think that would be nice," she says.

**

By the time they get to bed that night, they're both tired.

"Remember last Christmas?" Owen murmurs, gathering her in his arms. "Waiting for McBaby to arrive?"

"Ugh," Cristina moans. "I was huge and bloated. Why did you have to remind me?"

"I don't remember that you looked anything other than beautiful, Cristina."

"Liar."

"I remember _cranky_." They both laugh.

Cristina crawls on top of Owen. "I liked seeing you so happy today," she whispers, stroking his face. "This was a good Christmas."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." He reaches up and threads his hands through her hair, sliding his tongue against hers.

A wail comes through the baby monitor. They both turn and look at it.

"She sounds scared," Cristina says.

They both jump off the bed and run into Chloe's room. She's standing up in her crib, sobbing and wide-eyed.

"Did you have a bad dream?" Cristina picks up Chloe and cuddles her. "Poor baby."

Chloe clings to her and continues to sob.

"It's okay, Chloe," Owen says, stroking her hair.

Owen and Cristina exchange a look.

"We could bring her back to bed with us until she calms down?" Cristina suggests.

He nods sleepily.

"We'll have the S-E-X later," she promises him with a smile, as they walk back to their room.

"She can spell now?"

"Not yet. Maybe next week."

They laugh and settle into bed, with Chloe between them. Cristina speaks with her calmly until she stops crying, while Owen rubs her back.

Once Chloe falls asleep, curled up against her, Cristina looks up at Owen. He's fallen asleep too, hand still protectively placed on Chloe's back.

"You're a fine pair," she whispers, before turning off the light.


	13. Month Thirteen January

**Month Thirteen - January**

"Well," Meredith says, looking around the Hunts' sparse living room. "This is - interesting."

"What?" Cristina asks, adjusting a throw pillow. "That I actually cleaned for Chloe's birthday party?"

"There's that - but I was commenting on the fact that you barely decorated." Meredith looks at the few simple balloons and the store-bought banner.

"Like Chloe cares. She's one. We'll do the big balloons and streamers crap when she's old enough to remember."

"She might not care ... but does Owen know you're not going to go all out?"

"What?" Cristina frowns. "He's a guy, Meredith. Have you not noticed the huge muscles?"

"Hard not to. But he's a guy who got the best camcorder, the biggest Thanksgiving turkey, the fanciest Christmas tree, because he loves going all out for Chloe. He's the one who invited half of the hospital over for the party. He's going to want the party to look nice."

Cristina sighs. "Seriously?"

Meredith nods.

"Aw crap. Well, the party is in three hours and we're hungover. What do you expect me to do?"

Her friend smiles and pulls out her cell phone. "We're calling in the rainbows and unicorns expert."

Cristina's face falls. "Not -"

"Lexie."

**

"Don't worry, we can do this," Lexie says by way of greeting, marching into the foyer with her arms full of bags, and heavily pregnant. "Thanks for calling me!"

"Who else would already have decorations?" Cristina says. "All right, tell me what you want me to do."

"First - did you at least get a birthday cake?"

"Yes. Owen is picking it up. He's in charge of food."

"Good. Do you know what Chloe's going to wear?"

Cristina looks at her blankly.

"Go upstairs and pick out an outfit. Meredith, start getting balloons out of these bags and I'll go get the rest from the car."

"There's more?"

**

Owen enters the house through the garage, carefully carrying the cake. He sets it down in the kitchen, then goes into the living room. And starts to laugh.

"Oh shut up," Cristina scowls. She's helping Meredith hang up streamers, while pregnant Lexie is seated on the floor, tying ribbons to balloons. Chloe and Johanna are watching from the safety of a playpen.

"Looks great!" Owen chuckles, looking around the now pink and white room. "I was wondering how you were going to decorate. I thought you'd do something black and red and white. And blue."

"_You're_ decorating next year," Cristina tells him.

"No I'm not!"

**

"All right, time to change your diaper and get you looking respectable for your party," Cristina says, bringing Chloe into her room, closing the door behind them. "You can wear your red velvet dress that Grandma Helen bought, that will look cute."

She pauses and looks directly at Chloe as she sets her down on the changing table. She leans close and speaks in a quiet voice.

"We're doing the 'traditional' birthday party thing, because I don't want you to be the kid with the weird party-hating mom that embarrasses you. And your father loves this kind of crap. But what's important is, you've been with us for a whole year now, and we love you very much, and that is what we are celebrating. You are a wonderful and bright child and I wish you a happy birthday today and many, many more to come." She kisses Chloe's forehead. "Don't tell anyone I got sentimental, okay?"

**

They look at the remainders of the birthday party.

"I cleaned up _before_ the party," Cristina points out.

"I'll clean up after," Owen smiles. "Starting with Miss Chloe here." He bends down and scoops up Chloe, who has chocolate cake on her face.

"Do we have any beer left?"

"In the fridge." Owen carries Chloe up to her room and places her on the changing table.

"I hope you enjoyed your party, kiddo," he says. "The decorations were certainly – interesting. And although presents aren't why we had a birthday party, _you_ are, it was nice of people like Alex and Mark to send you gifts from far away."

He smiles softly. "I hope we didn't mess you up too much in your first year. You have to be patient with us, we _think_ that we know what we're doing as parents, but really, we're just making it up as we go along. The important thing is, our friends and family are there to help us, and they came today to celebrate your birthday, because we all love you and care about you. You have a world full of people looking out for you."


	14. Month Fourteen February

**Month Fourteen - February**

"I just want you to know," Cristina says, stretching out on a lounge chair on their private deck, "that I think we should start living on this cruise ship from now on."

Owen laughs as he picks up Chloe, who is decked out in a red swimsuit and shorts. "But the ship doesn't have an operating room."

"We could get one. Look at how old some of the other passengers are. A Cardio Goddess should be part of this set up. Imagine the package deal – get a bypass and recuperate in the sun."

"Uh huh." He leans over and kisses her. "Well, have fun soaking up the sun, while we go to the island today. You know, doing stuff."

She waves dismissively. "Whatever. We came to relax, I'm relaxing."

**

That evening, Owen laughs to find her still on the same chair. "Did you even move?"

"I did," she smiles, stretching. "I went to lunch, I went to the bar, I went to supper, I went to the bar. Where is everyone?"

"They went for dinner because Chloe was hungry." Owen grins and hands a rose to Cristina. "Happy early Valentine's Day."

She smiles and pulls him down for a kiss. "Mmm, happy early Valentine's Day to you too."

When they come up for air, she sighs happily. "Thank you for being a good sport about this. Even if cruises aren't your thing."

Owen shrugs. "We had fun visiting the island today. But you owe me a camping trip some day."

Cristina snorts. "Never! So how was your day?"

"Good. We had a lot of fun."

"How is Saul?"

"He's looking better. Much more relaxed." Owen smiles, looking very happy himself.

"Good."

Owen strokes her face. "I'm glad to see you looking relaxed, too."

"I'm glad I'm feeling more relaxed. And I know what would make me even more relaxed. How much time do we have before Saul brings Chloe back?"

He kisses her, running a finger underneath her bikini top. "We have all night - Saul volunteered to take her in his cabin. It's all arranged."

"Oh, I _do_ love you," she grins, standing up.

"Anything for my Valentine."


	15. Month Fifteen March

**Month Fifteen - March**

Cristina sits back and moans. She's sitting on her bathroom floor, feeling nauseous.

"You're a doctor, think," she tells herself. "Nausea, vomiting, but no fever, aches, or pains. You weren't sick coming back from the cruise, so you probably didn't pick up a virus."

Her eyes widen. "Oh _shit_."

**

Cristina stares at the pregnancy test in her hand. The plus sign does not fade or change. But the bathroom appears to be spinning slightly.

"Morning," Owen mumbles, stumbling in past her to relieve himself. She quickly sticks the test in a pocket of her sweat pants and leaves.

**

Work is miserable that morning. Every smell seems accentuated, making her nauseous. Sights that normally don't bother her are lurid and graphic. She has to bolt the Pit after consulting on an accident victim with an exposed abdomen.

Owen texts her to ask if she's okay. She replies with "VENT".

**

She sits on the little ledge in the boiler room and waits for him. He shows up shortly after.

"What's wrong?" he asks, pulling her up into his arms. She sighs.

"Am I a good mother?"

"What?" He steps back to look at her, puzzled. "You're a wonderful mother."

"I haven't messed up Chloe too much?"

"No." He looks concerned. "Cristina, what's wrong?"

"I'm not warm and fuzzy," she mutters. "I love Chloe, I love her so much but I'm not warm and fuzzy. Am I expecting too much from her? Should I be hugging her more?"

"Cristina," he says softly, "You are doing a great job with her. You want her to do well, _I_ want her to do well, and you are incredibly patient with her. And you are, quite frankly, the right amount of warm and fuzzy with her."

"What does that mean, 'the right amount'?"

"You're not too clingy or too distracted. You read the same Dr Seuss book to her fifteen times if that's what she wants, while she crawls all over your lap and pulls your hair. You let her make mistakes so she can learn. You are showing her that you can be a hardcore surgeon with a family. And we both have made mistakes as parents. Don't be hard on yourself."

She smirks then. "I was smart to marry you."

"Yes you were." He grins. "What brought this on?"

Cristina sighs and reaches into her lab coat. She pulls out the pregnancy test and hands it to him.

"_What?_" His face lights up. "You're pregnant?"

"That's what the plus sign means."

He grins and kisses her. "_This_ is a nice surprise."

"Uh huh." Cristina's tone is not happy.

He looks at her carefully.

"You'd think, with how long it took to conceive Chloe, that I couldn't possibly get pregnant on the pill, but here we are," she complains. "I'm blaming your sperm."

He looks confused. "So you didn't plan this?"

"No," she mutters. "I don't know if I can handle this. I don't know if I can handle two kids so soon."

He opens his mouth, then shuts it. His eyes are asking a question that he can't bear to vocalize.

"I will have it," she says, placing a hand on his arm. His posture relaxes. "Owen, this is different than before. I can't - make that choice this time. It doesn't feel right."

"Okay." He tentatively smiles.

She paces back and forth.

"I just - certainly did not plan on having another so soon," she says. "We haven't even discussed having another! I'm really hating the _timing_ at the moment. I'm upset at the timing. It _sucks_."

Owen nods. "Okay. The timing is not great, I agree." He looks at her, maintaining a serious, supportive face. His bright blue eyes betray his emotions.

"You can be excited about this," she says, rolling her eyes. "I won't mind."

He laughs and gathers her up in a bear hug, lifting her off the floor, making her smile a little. "_We_ can handle this."

"We do make a great team." She kisses him, wrapping her legs around his waist.

He smiles quietly, his blue eyes warm and reassuring. "I'm sorry my sperm knocked you up at the wrong time. Cristina, I know that the timing is bad, it is not what you wanted and that is okay. We will make it work."

"Be prepared to wait on me night and day for the next eight or so months," she teases.

"If you can whine only when necessary, sure." He kisses her. She bites his lower lip gently in rebuke. He laughs and walks forward, until she's backed up against a wall. He starts kissing her neck.

"What, you want to make a twin?" Cristina sighs, feeling better.

"_Yes_."


	16. Month Sixteen April

**Month Sixteen - April**

As soon as Owen rushes into the OB/GYN wing, he's directed to an exam room by the nurses. Cristina's lying on a gurney, changed into a hospital gown.

"I'm spotting," she says, taking his hand. "That's why I had you paged."

"Okay," he exhales. "Any cramping?"

"No. I'm going to have an ultrasound soon."

"Okay."

She looks up at him and squeezes his hand.

**

"Everything is looking good so far," the attending OB/GYN says, looking at the ultrasound screen. "Your spotting has ceased, the baby is where it needs to be, and the heart is looking great."

The examination continues.

"I'm seeing a healthy baby, 9-10 weeks old," the doctor concludes. "A Valentine's Day baby?"

Owen smiles sheepishly. "So now what?" he asks. Cristina keeps her eyes on the tiny heartbeat on the screen.

"We've already taken some swabs and samples, to rule out infections. I recommend regular examinations, consult with your doctor about increasing the number of ultrasounds. The placenta is looking good, but you'll want to monitor it. Considering the age of the baby and the healthy heartbeat, I'm feeling optimistic for you." She pauses and smiles kindly. "Sometimes spotting happens with no explanation."

Owen nods.

"I'll leave the two of you alone for a moment," the attending says. "Come find me when you're ready."

"Thank you."

Owen exhales, as they find themselves alone. Cristina keeps watching the playback on the ultrasound screen as he strokes her hair.

"Forget everything I ever said about hating the timing of this pregnancy," she says.

"Done."

They continue to watch the screen.

"I'm not claiming to be a Cardio God," Owen says carefully, "but that looks like a hardcore heart."

"It is," Cristina agrees, emphatically. "It is doing exactly what it is supposed to. Very well, in fact. That is a masterpiece. We've done it again, Owen."

He smiles, feeling some relief at her bravado.

"Do you know, there is an urban legend that says you can tell if you're having a boy or a girl based on the heart rate?" Cristina asks.

"I did not know that. What do you think we're having?"

"A boy or a girl. I don't pay attention to old wives' tales." They chuckle.

She puts her hand protectively on her lower belly. "It really doesn't matter. The heart is good." She pauses. "If I tell myself that enough times, maybe I will feel less scared."

He kisses her forehead. "We conceived against all odds. This baby wants to be born. I can feel it."

She sighs. "I would like a redhead this time."


	17. Month Seventeen May

**Month Seventeen - May**

"Here's to Lexie and Jonah's first play date," Meredith toasts, holding up her glass of wine. Cristina, Molly and Lexie raise their glasses in salute, as children run through the living room.

Lexie smiles tenderly down at her son, sleeping on a blanket at their feet. "And someday, he'll actually be old enough to play with the others."

Meredith looks sharply at Cristina. "Water? Didn't Derek offer you any wine?"

Cristina pauses, before responding. "He did."

The other women turn to look at her.

Cristina sighs. "We're at the three month mark, so it's okay-"

"OH MY GOD!" Lexie shrieks as Meredith erupts in laughter.

"-to announce that yes, we're pregnant again." Cristina scowls at Meredith. "Stop laughing."

"I knew you wouldn't wait too long," her friend chortles. "I just can't believe you haven't said anything."

"This one was a surprise," Cristina says. She places her hand against her lower belly. "Seriously, stop laughing. This pregnancy isn't like the last one. There's a reason I didn't say anything."

The women pause.

"I had some spotting last month, and everything has been fine since then, but that's why we have kept it secret," Cristina continues. "I've been seeing my doctor regularly, and we feel it's safe to say something now."

They smile at her.

"To pregnancy boobs!" Meredith says, raising her glass.

"To pregnancy boobs!"

Lexie smiles mischievously. "Can I throw you another baby shower?"

"No!" Cristina rolls her eyes.

They look up and laugh at the men gathering in the door of the living room.

"Did someone say 'pregnancy boobs'? 'Baby shower'?" Derek asks.

"Yep," Cristina affirms. She exchanges an amused look with Owen. "I told them."

Derek looks back and forth between them, smiling widely.

"It's his fault," Cristina smirks, pointing at Owen. "His bad ass stealthy Army sperm knocked me up again."

"Well, congratulations!" The men clap Owen on the back.

"When's the due date?" Meredith asks.

"November 20," Cristina tells her.

Meredith snorts. "Wait - _you're_ going to have two children under the age of two?"

"Yes."

"God help us all." Meredith smiles.

"_Thanks_." Cristina wishes she had something stronger than water.

"And then while Chloe is in the terrible twos, you'll have a teething baby." Molly pipes up.

"Our Chloe is not going to be terrible. We've had several talks about this," Cristina says confidently. "She is going to be reasonable."

"Oh my god," Derek laughs. "She has no clue."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Owen grins. "Our Chloe is perfect. Just because Robbie –"

"-Don't talk that way about your future son-in-law," Derek teases.

"Don't go there!"

"I hope it's a boy," Derek says, ignoring Owen. "Then he can marry Johanna and we'll really be one big happy family."

Everyone stares at Derek.

"I mean - beer for everyone! Except Cristina!"


	18. Month Eighteen June

**Month Eighteen - June**

"Cristina, how did we get talked into this?" Meredith shields her eyes from the bright sun overhead.

"I told Owen we could do whatever he wanted for Father's Day."

"You are such an idiot."

They sigh and look around them, at the trees and the tent and the trailer. At the pile of fishing gear piled beside the camping supplies.

"The fresh air is making me nauseous," Cristina complains, rubbing her swollen belly.

"It's good for you!" Owen says cheerfully, sticking his head out of the tent.

"I'm going into the trailer to make coffee," Meredith says. "I can't handle all of this nature stuff."

"_Coffee_," Cristina whines, picking up a chair and trying to unfold it. "I miss coffee."

Owen laughs, crawling out of the tent to help her. "You'll live," he assures her. "I packed lots of chocolate for you and your cravings."

"When are we going to start having fun? You promised me fun."

"We'll finish setting up camp soon, and then we can go down to the river for fishing. That will be fun."

"Yay." Cristina makes a face.

Owen places the unfolded chair in front of her. She sits down and crosses her arms across her chest.

"If you like, you can stay here and keep the girls with you." Owen gestures to Chloe and Johanna, who are chasing each other in the clearing while shrieking very loudly.

"_No_, I am not getting stuck babysitting those howler monkeys. We're going with you."

"Okay, Cristina. But let the record show I did not force you to go fishing, I offered you an option."

She sticks her tongue out at him. He laughs, leaning down to kiss her. "Ever do it in a tent, city girl?"

"Get a room," Derek laughs, stepping out of the trailer. He grins and spreads his arms wide. "Ah, back to basics."

"Freak," Cristina smirks. She mouths "NO" to Owen.

**

That evening, they crawl into the tent, all three feeling exhausted.

"Come on Chloe, get into your pyjamas," Owen coaxes.

"No!" Their daughter tenses up and sits down defiantly.

"It's time for bed," he says.

"No!"

Cristina and Owen look at each other.

"Yep, she's our kid," Cristina jokes, starting to change her clothes.

"We should have put her to bed earlier," Owen says, rubbing his eyes. "But the kids were having a lot of fun around the campfire."

"And now we smell of smoke and I'm going to puke if I eat another s'more."

"You had fun," Owen laughs. "You liked it when I played the guitar just for you."

"Maybe a little," Cristina admits. She takes Chloe's pyjamas from Owen. "Come on babe, let's get you changed."

"NO!" Chloe protests.

"Fine, sleep in what you're wearing," Owen says. "Come get into your sleeping bag."

"NO!" Chloe's eyes are drooping, but she remains defiant.

Owen raises his eyebrows. "It's pink," he says, holding it up. "Your favourite colour."

"NO!"

Cristina laughs. "Does this mean that you hate pink now? Please?"

"NO!"

Owen shrugs. "Where are you going to sleep, then?"

Chloe sits there and glares at them.

"Chloe, it's time for bed." Cristina says.

"NO!"

They can hear Derek laughing outside the tent.

"Make Chloe stop that," Cristina whispers to Owen. "Derek will think we can't control her."

"You make her stop," he whispers back.

She glares at him. Then her expression turns sweetly innocent.

"You're the better parent," she says. "I am sure you can figure out a way to get her into her pyjamas and into her sleeping bag without being difficult."

He smiles deviously. "I actually think that you are the better parent, Cristina. I invite you to show me how superior you are."

"No," Chloe says.

They look at her.

"Hey Chloe," Cristina says, reaching out and grabbing her, pulling her on her lap. "You are a very tired little girl, and that is making you stubborn. You need to go to bed now."

"_No_." She sleepily burrows her head against Cristina's chest.

"_I'm_ going to bed," Owen yawns, settling into the larger sleeping bag. "We had a long day, Chloe."

"We did," Cristina agrees. "We drove all the way out here and we went fishing and Mommy caught more fish than Daddy -"

"Beginner's luck," Owen snorts.

"- and Daddy was a sore loser about that and now it's time to go to bed."

"NO!" Chloe pushes herself away from Cristina.

Cristina sighs and joins Owen in their sleeping bag, leaving Chloe sitting by herself. She rubs her stomach thoughtfully. "Hey, McBaby is moving."

"Really?" Owen turns over to put his hand on her stomach.

"Really." She moves Owen's hand so he can feel the movements. They lie next to each other, savouring the light fluttering. When the movements cease, Owen reaches into a bag and pulls out some cocoa butter, which he starts massaging into Cristina's belly. Chloe sits and watches them, clearly fatigued.

"Chloe is going to be terrible when she turns two, isn't she?" Cristina whispers.

"I'm afraid she's already started," Owen smiles. "It's to be expected. Look at who her parents are."

"We're doomed," Cristina laughs.

Chloe crawls over to them. She puts her hands on Cristina's stomach and leans.

"Too much pressure," Cristina says, moving Chloe's hands. "Come on, get into your stupid pink sleeping bag."

"No," Chloe says, settling down between her parents instead.

"Fine," Owen says. He puts away the butter and turns off the lantern. They lie there quietly.

"Does the forest always make those sounds at night?" Cristina asks. "With the wind and the trees?"

Owen laughs. "I was just thinking how nice and quiet it is, away from the city."

"Freak." Cristina pauses. "What about bears?"

"What about them?"

"What if a bear comes into our camping area? What if it's hungry?"

Owen chuckles. "We won't get bears. All of the food is locked away in the trailer. We burned the trash. And Derek and I marked our territory."

"How - oh, that's why you -"

"Yep." Owen grins in the dark.

"I thought you were just being guys," she yawns.

"That too."

"Shh," Chloe says.


	19. Month Nineteen July

**Month Nineteen - July**

"Derek, wait up!"

The Chief of Surgery smiles knowingly and waits for Cristina, chasing him down a hallway, fresh out of surgery.

"Is it true? Was Senator Winton brought in with chest pains?"

"It's true. Suspected Thoracic Aortic Aneurysm"

"Who's treating her?"

"I've already seen her, and she's having a surgeon flown in – she'd already been consulting with a thoracic surgeon who was in Vancouver and is now on a plane - ."

"You're letting her fly a stranger in to operate in our hospital?" Cristina protests. "That's not fair –"

"You can scrub in on the surgery," Derek interrupts. "The incoming surgeon is not a stranger to Seattle Grace and has already said you can assist, if you want. It's up to you."

Cristina peers at him suspiciously. "Who is the surgeon?"

Derek smiles. "Preston Burke."

**

"That's a great opportunity for you!" Owen enthuses over the phone. "I'll pick up Chloe at day care."

"That's all you have to say?" Cristina asks incredulously, leaning against the nurses' station in the Cardio wing.

He laughs. "Should I be saying something macho so you can yell at me? Should I come in and hover over you and mark my territory? You'd kill me."

"That's true."

"You'll be fine, Cristina."

"I'm fat and bloated today."

He pauses.

"I'm not going to sleep with him!" Cristina snaps.

"I'm in an impossible situation," Owen chuckles. "If I say you're not fat and bloated, you'll argue with me. If I say that you are fat and bloated, which you aren't, I'm sleeping on the couch."

She rolls her eyes and smiles.

"You're beautiful." She can hear the grin in his voice. "I know that you want in on this surgery, you want in on it _bad_, and I, your supportive and understanding husband, want you to have this surgery."

"You're sure you don't mind picking up Chloe?"

"I will sacrifice a surgery for you." Owen lowers his voice, playfully. "And of course you're not going to sleep with him. You're _mine_."

"Pig." Cristina smiles. "Thank you."

"Wake me when you get home."

Cristina hangs up and rubs her belly. "Stop kicking," she tells her baby bump sternly. Then she looks down the corridor and quickly stands upright, seeing Derek escort a familiar person towards her.

Cristina purses her lips as Preston Burke approaches, looking - restrained.

"Look who's here!" Derek says with a little too much enthusiasm.

"Hello," Cristina says politely, as he looks at her, clearly pregnant.

"It's a pleasure to see you again," he says quietly, shaking her proffered hand. "I'm glad you are able to scrub in, I look forward to seeing what you can do."

"Thank you for the opportunity," Cristina says, crossing her arms in front of her.

She looks at Burke, head to toe. _Definitely greyer and older, but I can't say he's let himself go_. She notes the wedding ring on his left hand without comment.

**

They quickly go over the case in a conference room, with the surgical team that Derek and Cristina pulled together. She feels excitement coursing through her veins, reviewing the scans. She can feel that this going to be a great surgery.

Burke asks her to stay behind. She assents.

"You – look well," he says, trying to avoid looking at her midsection.

"Yes, I'm pregnant again," she says. "But I can do this surgery."

"I'm sure you can. And congratulations."

They pause, awkwardly.

"Congratulations on the - ring," Cristina says, waving at his left hand.

"Thanks." Burke smiles proudly. "I got married last month." He clears his throat. "I, um, met your husband and daughter the last time I was here."

"I know," she says. "He told me."

"Your daughter is adorable. Derek thinks very highly of Owen. I liked him."

"I like him too." She takes in a deep breath. "It's - it's fine. Everything is in the past now. I hope we are both happier with the way things are now."

"Good." He looks relieved.

"Now let's scrub in. I can not wait for this surgery!"

He chuckles then.

**

"Owen?" She shakes his feet, then crawls into bed beside him.

"Hey babe."

"Hey." She kisses him. "How was Chloe today?"

"Wonderful. Tell me all about the surgery."

"It was kick ass. I was clamping like a champion. I got to help repair the aorta..."


	20. Month Twenty August

**Month Twenty - August**

"So, what are you having, a boy or a girl?" Izzie cheerfully places her hands on Cristina's stomach.

"Don't do that," Cristina snaps, moving Izzie's hands away.

"Rule #1, don't touch the belly unless invited to," Meredith advises. The other women around the nurses' station look at each other knowingly.

"Rule #2, there will be no invitations," Cristina adds.

"Oh, I get it, you still don't do 'warm and fluffy'," Izzie smirks. "So - boy or girl?"

"Rule #3," Callie says, "is - don't ask if it's a boy or a girl. They don't want to know."

"_What_?" Izzie rolls her eyes. "Why don't you want to know?"

"I married a man who likes to be old-fashioned about some things," Cristina shrugs. "He doesn't want to know, so we don't know."

"The pig killer is sentimental. Aw." Izzie smiles as Cristina glares at her.

"I bet it's a boy," Izzie continues blithely. "You're carrying high. But you have acne, so it could be a girl. Are you craving salty or sweet food?"

"Rule #4. Shut up, Izzie." Cristina taps a foot angrily.

"Motherhood has not changed you. How is Yang-Hunt child #1? Chloe? Is she all bitter like you?"

"Chloe Hunt," Cristina corrects her. "Just Chloe Hunt. She's fine. She's brilliant."

"She doesn't have your name? Hunt is really old-fashioned, huh? Did he _make_ you name her that?" Izzie grins.

"Rule #5 - Owen doesn't make me do anything." Cristina grimaces as everyone smirks. "Oh, you know it's true."

"Rule #6 - Cristina hates hyphenated last names," says Meredith. "They're too 'precious' and stupid and could lead to future complications."

"They _are_ precious and stupid!" Cristina starts ranting. "What if she marries someone named Bobby Chan-Gomez? Then she'd be Dr Chloe Yang-Hunt-Chan-Gomez or she'd have to pick and choose which last name to keep. It was just easier to give her _one_ last name, and I _wanted_ her to have Owen's last name since she looks like _me_ and _he is_ her father."

"Rule #7, don't bring up hyphenated last names," Callie says, barely looking up from her Blackberry. The group breaks out in laughter.

"I just had the greatest idea!" Izzie exclaims. "You should name the baby after your mom! If it's a girl."

Cristina sighs. "If it's a girl, I am _not_ naming her Helen Hunt. There already is one."

"Rule #8 - don't suggest names like Deer Hunt, or Scavenger Hunt, or Treasure Hunt. She has heard and hates them all," Meredith laughs.

Cristina opens her mouth to retort but is cut off by her pager. She checks it and smiles. "Gotta go. I'll see you later, Izzie." She stomps away, around the corner, to where Owen is waiting for her.

"Callie sent me a 911 so I paged you," he grins, walking her down the hall, away from the scene. "Who's bugging you now?"

"Izzie. She touched my stomach and called you a pig killer and said I have acne," Cristina complains.

"Oh."

"If she wasn't dying, I'd kill her myself."

"That bad, huh?" Owen takes her hand.

"The mets are back with a vengeance."


	21. Month TwentyOne September

**Month Twenty-One - September**

_September 22nd._

Owen brings Cristina a cup of coffee, while she's working on paperwork in the clinic.

"Thanks," she says, rubbing her stomach.

"Is McBaby kicking?"

"No," she says. "Feels like Braxton-Hicks. My uterus is probably as bored with clinic duty as I am. I don't know how I'm going to stand two more months of this."

"At least you haven't been put on bed rest yet," Owen smiles.

"And we are _all_ happy about that," Cristina snorts. "How is your day going?"

"Two car crashes and a duplex fire so far today. This is the first quiet moment I've had."

Cristina opens her mouth to say something - and then her expression changes rapidly from confusion to concern, her eyes suddenly losing focus. Owen stands to attention.

"I think I - we - " she says, hands going to her stomach. "I - _ow_!" She screams.

Owen doesn't need to signal the staff - they quickly help him get Cristina onto a bed, pulling the curtains shut. Bailey appears out of nowhere and takes charge of the situation.

"Oh god, it _hurts_," Cristina moans, as Owen rapidly undresses her and gets her into a gown. "Owen, this isn't labour."

"What do you think it is?" Bailey is guiding her legs apart.

"Placental abruption?" Cristina gasps as she feels a warm gush between her legs. "Crap! My water broke?" She looks at Owen and sees stark terror on his face and feels afraid.

Miranda beckons to a nurse. "Placental abruption. Page Dr Robbins and get Dr Yang into an OR STAT for a C-section."

"Owen?" Cristina looks at him for an explanation. His face is ashen white and he's already helping Bailey move her bed.

He looks at her. "Your amniotic fluid is full of blood. The baby has to come out now," he says, fighting to stay calm as she is wheeled away.

She takes a deep breath to centre herself. _I am Cristina Yang. I do not panic_.

"Placental abruption," she says. "I understand. The baby is coming out now." He nods at her, watching her carefully.

"Good thing this happened at work?" Cristina tries to crack a joke, but nothing is funny.

**

Owen is impressed with the speed of the staff, getting Cristina set up in the OR. He smiles bravely for her as she goes under general anesthesia, gripping his hand. His own hands are itching to join in on the C-section, but one glare from Bailey lets him know he's lucky to be allowed in the OR.

"Here's the baby," Bailey announces. "Aspirator, now."

"It's a girl," Arizona says.

Owen feels a chill watching them working on the small figure - and exhales when the baby moves and kicks. He watches his daughter turn pink as she breathes in air.

"Cristina _is_ very lucky this happened at work," Bailey says. "She's going to be fine, Owen."

He nods and strokes Cristina's hand, wishing she was awake. "Thank you, Miranda."

Owen notes that his breathing and his heart rate are increasing. And he's feeling lightheaded. Recognizing the signs of a panic attack, he closes his eyes and tries to slow his breathing down, gripping Cristina's limp hand.

"I know, baby, you weren't expecting to be born today," he hears Arizona say.

"Dr Hunt?" A nurse asks. "Are you okay?"

"Hey," Derek's voice says, by his right ear. His friend grabs Owen's right arm securely. "I just got here. What's going on?"

Owen opens his eyes and turns toward Derek. "Placental abruption. It's a girl."

"Cristina's going to be fine," Bailey announces.

"The baby is looking good, all things considered," Arizona calls over. "Owen, you can come say 'hi'."

Owen quickly walks to where Arizona and her nurse are working on the baby, putting her on a ventilator. Derek follows him, resolutely standing by his side.

"She's a scrappy girl," Owen says, watching her furiously wave her arms.

"She is," Arizona agrees.

Owen looks over to where Bailey and her team are working on Cristina.

"Don't even think about coming over here, Hunt." Bailey's voice is firm but friendly. "We're taking good care of her. Stay where you are."

"Yes ma'am!" He turns back to the baby, watching her get weighed.

"She's looking good," Derek says quietly. "It's going to be fine."

"She'll have to go to the NICU," Arizona says, wrapping a blanket around the baby. "But you can hold her first. Ready?"

Owen smiles softly and holds out his hands. Arizona carefully places his newest daughter in his arms.

"Hi there," Owen quietly speaks to her. "We weren't expecting you for a couple of months. But I'm glad you made it here safely."

**

Cristina comes out of anesthesia briefly, fighting for consciousness. She's in the recovery room, a tired Owen waiting beside her bed.

"Did the baby die?" she whispers, her hand going to her stomach.

"_No_," he says, stroking her face. "_She_ is a fighter. Another beautiful girl. And this one has red hair."

Cristina smiles weakly. "I wanted a redhead."

"She can't breathe very well on her own and she's small, but her chances are good," Owen assures her.

"How much does she weigh?"

"3 lbs, 12 ounces."

"How am I?" Her voice is shaky.

"You're going to be fine, they stitched you and closed you up without complications. You'll be okay."

"Where's Chloe?"

"With my mother. Go back to sleep, Cristina."

"Okay."

**

Cristina wakes up again when she hears Chloe calling for her. This time, she's in a private hospital room. Owen is standing and holding Chloe beside her bed, with Owen's mother and Meredith also standing there. _How strange to have two daughters now_, she thinks drowsily.

"Hi sweetie," Cristina smiles, weakly reaching her arms out. Owen places Chloe beside her, carefully avoiding her surgical incision.

"How are you?" Mrs Hunt asks.

"Okay," Cristina yawns. "I can't believe the baby was born."

She looks up at Owen. "How is -?"

"She's good," he assures her. "I called Saul, he's going to fly out as soon as possible," Owen reports. "And the whole hospital is sending their love and best wishes."

Cristina nods and strokes Chloe's curly hair.

"I'd like to take Mom to the NICU. Are you okay having Chloe with you?"

"She's fine," Cristina says, rubbing Chloe's back. "I want her with me. Meredith, are you staying?"

"I'll stay," Meredith promises. "I can grab Chloe if she starts being a problem."

"We'll be back soon," Owen says, escorting his mother out.

"I hope you didn't want a brother," Cristina yawns, playing with Chloe's hair. "Meredith, have you seen the baby?"

"I have," her friend says. "She's small but I think she will be fine. She is the centre of the NICU's attention. And she's cute."

Cristina finds herself drifting away, and decides not to fight her sleepiness. "Maybe you should take Chloe."

**

Cristina wakes up when Owen and his mother reappear. "She's doing great," he says, kissing her cheek. "Her vitals are as good as can be expected."

"She's beautiful," Kathy adds. "Owen's hair was that red when he was born."

"Mom's going to take Chloe home and sleep there so I can stay here tonight," Owen says, taking Chloe from Meredith. "Chloe, give Mommy a kiss."

Chloe obliges, before leaving with her father and grandmother. Cristina dozes off again until Owen reappears. They're alone in her room now. He sits by her bed and takes her hands.

"Is the baby really all right?" Cristina asks.

He nods. "The doctors are watching her closely, she's definitely a preemie and her lungs aren't fully developed. She needs to put on weight, she probably needs to stay here a couple of months. You can go see her tomorrow."

"I want to see her now," Cristina pouts. "Tell me everything about her."

Owen smiles gently and pulls out his phone. He flips through to show her pictures.

"She looks more like me but she has your mouth. You can't see it with the ventilator mask on. And there's you around her eyes, see? She keeps making little noises. She's big enough that she can be held, the doctors want me to go down later and give her kangaroo care. You'll be able to do it when you're feeling better. And you can pump breast milk for her when your milk comes in."

Cristina frowns.

Owen looks at her. "Are you okay?"

"I - can't look at the pictures and see the baby that's been kicking me and making me throw up," she confesses. "She doesn't look like she's mine. I want to see her as soon as possible."

"You will." Owen starts rubbing her hands. She sees worry etched all over his face.

"Owen, what's wrong?"

"This morning, I handed you a cup of coffee, and then I watched you get cut open. It was close, Cristina. I thought that I would lose both of you."

She squeezes his hands. "I'm not going anywhere."

He lifts a hand to his mouth for a quick kiss.

"So, Owen, do you have any ideas for a name? You've seen her."

"You saw her too. Sort of"

She sighs. "Thank you for the pictures on your phone, but they're not enough. I can't name her based on those."

Owen smiles quietly and looks at their hands, still joined. "I do have an idea."

"Go on."

"Remember before Chloe, when we were discussing possible boy names?"

"Uh huh."

"Well, I was down there earlier, after she got settled in the NICU, and for some reason I thought about how we were talking about using my father's name. Malcolm Hunt." He looks at her quickly.

"And?"

"Mallory," he says. "I think she looks like a Mallory. But you need to see her too."

"I'll have to have a good look at her," Cristina agrees. "But I don't hate the name Mallory."

_September 23rd_

The next day, Cristina is carefully transferred to a wheelchair and taken to the neo-natal ICU. She holds her breath as Owen wheels her to their baby's isolette.

Their newest daughter is wrapped in a blanket, wearing a tiny ventilator mask, with a feeding tube down her throat. Cristina carefully takes in the sight of all the tubing and wires. It's hard to see the baby's face with the mask. A small knitted cap is keeping her head warm. The baby is awake and restlessly moving her hands.

"Hey you," she says softly, reaching in to stroke a tiny arm. Owen's hands grip her shoulders.

"She had an exciting night," one of the nurses walks over to tell them. "There were some apnea episodes, but she came out of them on her own. She's very sociable, she likes having people around her."

"Thank you," Owen says quietly. The nurse nods and leaves them alone.

"She's so small," Cristina frets. Owen squeezes her shoulders.

"She's a tough one," he says. "Look how alert her eyes are."

Cristina nods, continuing to stroke the baby's arm. The baby looks at her, staying still while receiving attention.

"She does look like us," Cristina says softly. Owen rubs her shoulders.

One of the doctors comes over. "Do you want to hold her before we consult?"

Cristina nods. A nurse helps the doctor transfer the tiny baby into Cristina's arms, trailing her tubing behind her.

Cristina sighs, looking down at the small baby. "I keep going over everything in my mind," she says. "What could I have done differently to prevent this?"

"Don't do that," Owen advises, stroking her hair. "You know as well as I do that these things happen all the time."

"It's hard to remember that when it's your own child," she replies. She nudges the knitted cap up so she can see the baby's hair. A few tufts of bright copper stick up.

"That _is_ red," Cristina smiles. "Maybe her middle name should be Anne, after Anne of Green Gables. Although I was thinking she could have two middle names - Helena and something in Korean. I just can't name her Helen Hunt, even as a middle name."

"I like Helena as a middle name. Maybe she could have Sun-Hi, like Chloe?"

"Maybe. I like the name Mallory," Cristina says quietly.

"Let's try it out. Hi Mallory."

Cristina's eyes fill with tears, as she looks down at Mallory. She blinks and the tears flow down her face. Owen finds her a tissue.

"She's so small," Cristina murmurs. "Owen, we could have lost her."

"But we didn't. We _won't_. She comes from us, she's made of tough."

"Everything happened so fast," she sniffles. The full weight of the last 24 hours comes crashing down on her and she continues to cry.

"I know." Owen stands there and strokes her hair, letting her cry. Mallory looks up at her, small eyes bright and alert behind the oxygen mask.

_September 24_

"She's lovely," Izzie whispers. She sits in her wheelchair, beside the isolette, surrounded by her friends.

"Do you feel up to holding her?" Owen asks.

"I'm afraid of dropping her," Izzie says quietly, looking down at her frail hands, with the needle for the IV drip.

Cristina and Meredith exchange a look. Cristina gestures helplessly at her own wheelchair.

"We'll help," Meredith says. She and Owen get pillows to prop up Izzie's arms. Then Owen carefully places Mallory in Izzie's arms, while Meredith supports her friend's arms.

"Wow," Izzie smiles, lifting one hand to touch Mallory's face. "She is so beautiful. Her hair is beautiful. Even her name is beautiful."

"Thanks," Owen chuckles. "We named her after my father, Malcolm."

"Oh." Izzie looks confused. "I assumed you named her after George. O'Malley, Mallory..."

Owen looks chagrined. "Sorry," he says. "I didn't think of that."

"I did," Cristina says quietly. They all turn and look at her.

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, whatever. I'm blaming the drugs."

A glimmer of Izzie's former radiance illuminates her eyes. "I hope your next child is a girl too, so you can name her after me," she teases Cristina.

"_What_ next child?" Cristina protests. "We just had _this_ one!"

_September 27_

Derek strolls through the NICU, walking over to where Owen and Cristina are sitting. Chloe is sleeping on her mother's lap. Owen's shirt is open and Mallory is snuggled against his bared chest, cradled in his huge hands for kangaroo care.

"Ah good, you've got a shirt on," Derek says. Owen raises an eyebrow.

"Do you have any idea of how pale you are?" Derek jokes, pulling up a chair. "You could blind people."

Owen smiles and shakes his head in amusement.

"I told him he has to wear a shirt from now on," Cristina says with a smirk. "One of the interns was watching him too closely."

Derek chortles. "Which one?"

"Kari. And maybe Jeff too." Cristina grins.

They laugh. Owen smiles and gently strokes Mallory's hair.

"She's looking stronger," Derek says.

Cristina nods. "She's getting some breast milk now and she gained a few ounces."

"Every little bit helps," Owen says quietly.

"How is Chloe doing?"

Cristina smiles and smooths her oldest daughter's hair. "She's a little bit jealous. We snuck her in tonight because she's been getting cranky without seeing me."

"I thought you said Chloe was going to be reasonable -"

"Yeah, yeah," Cristina laughs. "We get it _now_. We've certainly had a few previews of the terrible twos. She does understand that she has to be on her best behaviour while visiting me, so don't throw her out, Uncle Derek."

"Uncle Derek would never do that."


	22. Month Twenty Two October

**Month Twenty-Two - October**

_October 1_

Cristina wakes up when Owen comes into their bedroom. Chloe is snuggled against her, awake and quietly playing with a toy.

"She's so glad you're home," Owen smiles. Cristina blinks and looks away.

"Do you want something to eat before we go visit Mallory?" Owen asks, scooping up Chloe in his arms.

Cristina shakes her head and pulls a pillow over her head.

"What's wrong? Are you in pain?"

She mutters something under the pillow.

"What?"

She lifts the pillow and speaks quietly but firmly. "I came home today without my baby. That is what is wrong." She puts the pillow back over her face.

Owen exhales softly and puts Chloe back on the bed. He lies down next to Cristina and starts stroking her hair. They lie there in silence.

Chloe crawls over them. She lifts up the pillow over Cristina's face. Cristina opens her eyes and looks at Chloe, who is watching her quizzically.

"Wake up, Mommy," Chloe says.

Cristina starts to shake. Owen leans over to kiss her forehead - and realizes that Cristina is shaking with suppressed laughter. He smiles. Cristina finally laughs out loud and flings the pillow away. She ruffles Chloe's hair.

"You're saying, 'enough with the pity party', aren't you?" Cristina sits up, hugging Chloe. "Okay. _Fine_. Let's go see your baby sister."

_October 12th_

As is his habit, Owen walks up to the NICU at lunch. He's not surprised to see his mother there, rocking Mallory, chatting with Saul. The grandparents have taken it upon themselves to keep Mallory company.

"She's doing so well," Kathy says happily. "I'm glad to see she's really putting on weight now."

Owen smiles and strokes Mallory's hair. "She's a champion. She should be able to come home sooner than we thought."

Saul and Kathy exchange a glance. "We - we've been talking with the nurses," Saul says.

"About her lung problems," Kathy add. "We hope you don't mind."

Owen smiles and shakes his head.

Kathy continues. "They say she's going to need to go home with apnea monitors and an oxygen tank for a while. How are you going to handle all of that with day care?"

Owen shrugs. "We're still trying to figure it all out. Cristina isn't going to take her full maternity leave, so she'll save some for when Mallory comes home. And maybe one of us will work part-time for a while, move our shifts around."

His mother speaks. "I don't want to be a permanent babysitter, but if I can help out in the short-term, while Mallory is still so fragile, I want to. You can show me what to do, can't you?"

"And I can fly up," Saul offers. "I can help out every now and then."

Owen smiles. "You don't have to do that. You've done far too much for us."

"We do have to do it," Saul says. "And Helen would do it if she were here."

_Otober 14th_

Cristina lies on their bed, staring at the ceiling, as Owen talks on the phone. She doesn't move as he finishes the call, and lies down next to her.

"That was Derek," Owen says quietly. "Izzie's funeral is set for Friday at 1. I'll take the day off."

"Okay." Cristina rolls over, into his arms. He tilts her face up and tenderly kisses her.

She props herself up on one elbow, and starts unbuttoning his shirt. He gently massages her back as she leans over him, spreading kisses down his chest.

He senses that she's seeking comfort and intimacy, rather than withdrawing into herself. They ease each other out of their clothes and get under the covers, exchanging kisses and caresses.

Owen cradles Cristina in his arms, leaving a trail of kisses down her neck. He gently takes a breast into his mouth, slowly sucking while his hands stroke her body. She feels warm and supple, relaxing under his caring touch. She smells of honey. Her hands move slowly through his hair, rubbing his temples, stroking his cheekbones. She rubs against him, whispering his name.

He continues to lick and suck her breasts, moving his hands to her ass. She adjusts her position so she can stroke his engorged shaft, running her fingers over the sensitive head. He moans appreciatively, gently biting her flesh.

Cristina hooks one leg over his hip, moving to lie on her side. He shifts, starts kissing her neck, her chin, as he positions his erection and thrusts into her.

"Cristina," he moans, gathering her in his arms again. She cradles his face in her small hands, kissing him, twining her tongue against his. They move together. He strokes her stomach with the back of one hand, carefully avoiding her healing incision, as his hips continue to pump. Then his fingers gently crawl down to her centre, massaging her swollen clit, as she whimpers.

"Let yourself go," he whispers in her ear, increasing the pressure of his fingers. "I'll catch you." Cristina gasps, gripping him as his fingers get more intense. She pulls him closer. He tries to maintain his rhythm as she falls apart, shuddering and thrashing. As she starts to come down from her high, he begins to buck wildly against her, releasing into her, as he is overwhelmed by his own pleasure.

"God, I love you," he says huskily, as she curls against him.

"Good." He can feel her smile against his chest. "Because you are stuck with me."


	23. Month Twenty Three November

**Month Twenty-Three - November**

_November 3rd_

Owen comes home and looks for Cristina and Chloe. He raises his eyebrows when he finds them in Chloe's room, soon to be Mallory's.

"You're cleaning," he says, watching Cristina scrubbing down the changing table.

"Mallory's coming home soon," she replies. "She can't be near germs."

"I know. But _you_ are cleaning."

She turns and glares at him. "So what?"

He grins.

"Don't you have a big girl bed to put together for someone?" Cristina asks, pointing to Chloe, who is playing on the floor.

"I want to get a picture of this," he laughs, pulling out his phone.

"Don't you dare!" She jumps up and grabs his phone. Owen snorts.

"Do you really think I'd let Mallory get sick?" Cristina scowls. "I can be a neat freak for her."

"I _know_ you can," he says, pulling her in close. "And when you're done in here, there's laundry -"

"That's still your job," she smiles. "Nice try, though."

"Thanks."

_November 10th_

"How is she?" Owen asks from the doorway, as Cristina hovers over Mallory in her crib.

"Good. I think she's adjusted to being home," Cristina whispers. She checks the apnea monitor.

Owen nods and comes to stand beside her. "She's sleeping well."

"For now." They both smile. Mallory has made it quite clear that she doesn't like to be still, she doesn't like to be alone, and she doesn't stay asleep for long.

"Owen ..."

"Yes?"

"I can't do this again," Cristina sighs, leaning against him. "Having a preemie."

"What are you saying?"

"I don't want a third child," she says quietly. "I can't risk going through this again."

"Okay," he says, putting his arm around her. "We don't have to decide anything right away."

"I just - wanted to you to know how I feel. In case you want a boy."

"A boy?" Owen scoffs. "There's not a single thing that I can't do with my girls just because they're girls. Well, except write our names in the snow."

"Owen!" she protests. "I'm serious!"

"So am I," he assures her. "Look, I'm grateful that we have got our girls when we thought that we might not be able to have any kids at all. But we don't have to decide anything right away."

"I've decided."

"The last two months have been stressful for me too, you know. And I'm well aware that pregnancy is not fun."

She nods. "But you're not agreeing with me. You're not telling me it's okay."

"Cristina, I'm not telling you that you're wrong to feel the way that you do. I do understand where you're coming from. I'm - not so ready to close the door on this."

"You're impossible."

"So are you." They kiss, before turning to watch Mallory sleep again.


	24. Month Twenty Four December

**Month Twenty-Four**

Owen looks up from his computer, smiling to see Cristina standing with Mallory in the doorway of his small office.

"This is a nice surprise," he says, as she puts down Mallory's car seat. "What brings you by?"

"Just finalizing the details of me coming back to work next month." She straps Mallory in.

"Come here, you." He tugs Cristina onto his lap. "I've been thinking. About this not having a third child thing."

She raises an eyebrow. "Oh? My mind is made up."

"Hear me out," he asks her. "I always saw myself with a lot of kids, you know. It's a hard fantasy to let go of."

"I'm listening." She leans her head against his chest.

"But I never saw myself becoming a father as late in life as I did."

"You're not old," she assures him.

"Not yet. But I will be. And I'm already tired, with two kids." He takes in a deep breath. "Maybe I can let go of the number of kids I wanted to have. Maybe some day we'll want to adopt. Maybe I can spare you the stress of another pregnancy. Maybe I can do my part to make sure we don't have another surprise baby, as lovely as Mallory is."

"What, make sure I'm on birth control? Believe me, I've got that covered."

"I was thinking something more permanent than that," he says. "Something I could get done."

"You mean - a vasectomy? The snip-snip?" She lifts her head to look at him.

"I spoke with a urologist this morning. It's something to think about. You could go off birth control for life."

She tilts her head. "I think - I like the idea. You'd do that for me?"

He nods.

"That's kind of hot, you wanting to take responsibility like that," she muses. "You're getting lucky tonight."

He chuckles. "Well, let's think about it. Okay?"

"Okay." She kisses him. "How many kids did you see yourself with?"

"Five."

"Oh _hell_ no."

_December 25th_

"Wake up Cristina, it's Christmas."

"Leave me alone." Cristina pulls the blankets over her head. She feels a weight moving next to her head.

"Mommy wake up!" A small hand grabs her hair.

"I'm awake!" She pulls back the blankets and mock-glares at Chloe, sitting next to her.

"Hi," Chloe says, pleased with herself. Her brown eyes are dancing with excitement.

Cristina arches an eyebrow at Owen, standing beside the bed, laughing while he holds a squirming Mallory.

"When are we going to stop this tradition?" She yawns, stretching. "When can I sleep in again on Christmas morning?"

"When the girls are teenagers and too cool to open presents with their parents."

"Can't wait."

"I can." He grins at her, sitting down with Mallory. "I think she's hungry – do you want to feed her first?"

"Hand her over." Mallory latches on quickly and starts suckling. She looks up at Cristina with grateful brown eyes and kicks her feet. Chloe smiles, and strokes her sister's wild red hair as she nurses.

"My baby," Chloe says proudly.

Cristina chuckles, then looks at all of them, piled onto one bed in their pyjamas. Chloe has pigtails and is wearing her favourite pink pyjamas, that she will outgrow soon. Owen is rumpled and a little bleary-eyed and totally sexy. Cristina sighs, looking down at the little spitfire sucking away. A part of her is sad that she'll have to wean Mallory soon. But she can't be a Cardio Goddess and drip breast milk at the same time.

"Tell me I'm hardcore," she says.

"You are hardcore, Cristina Yang," Owen says, moving so he can sit next to her, pulling Chloe onto his lap. "You hold hearts and you heal them and you are the hottest Cardio Goddess I know. We have two bad ass kids thanks to you."

"Indeed." They laugh.

She looks at him, as he sits there, his eyes far away. "What's on your mind, Owen?"

"I was thinking of one of my lowest moments," he says, his eyes focusing on hers.

"Oh?" Cristina reaches out and takes his hand.

"When you said you were afraid to fall asleep in my arms," he whispers. "And I knew then that I couldn't continue any more without help. And I knew you weren't going to be with me any more."

"It was temporary," she reminds him. "_This_ is permanent."

"_This_ is good," he smiles. "And just think. There's more to come. We've got potty training and Brownies and homework in the future."

"And we're going to have two teenage girls with pimples and braces and boyfriends and hormones at the same time," Cristina sighs.

"No boyfriends." Owen grins. "Not until they've finished their residencies."

"Have you _met_ any teenage girls?" Cristina laughs. "I hate to tell you, but Robbie Shepherd is going to be a McHottie, with those blue eyes and that black hair."

"Don't go there," Owen groans.

"So what's next?"

"We're going to open Christmas presents," Owen smiles. "And then we'll see."

_Author's note: Thank you very much for the encouragement as I've been posting this story. I started writing this in August (and finished revising it an hour ago) and I'm glad that it has been so well-received this far. And yes, I'm already writing more follow-ups. _:-)


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